Man: Would you sleep with me for one million dollars?
Lady: Sure.
Man: How about for ten bucks?
Woman: What do you think I am?
Man: We’ve already established what you are. All we’re doing is bargaining about price.
Twice, on different occasions, both when I was a student in my early twenties.
Once while hitchhiking, with my friend, We had backpacks and everything. The guy knew we were hitchhiking students, but he tried anyway. We demanded to be let out of the car.
Once while I busily doing errands on my bike, biking at top speed from A to B. He came up next to me on his bike and asked me how much it was. I wore a coat, a faded 50’s ballgown, a rough knit sweater, and glittery fishnet stockings. I suppose it was an honest mistake.
Since my given name is Fred Garvin, all the time.
… Errands … Bicycle … Gown … head explodes
I like the fact that the guy assumes she’s a bike prostitute - as if that were a thing - and asks how much, as opposed to assuming ‘performance artist’, ‘loon’, ‘someone who woke up hungover and naked in a thrift store’ or ‘candid camera actor’.
Been mistaken for a john once before, because obviously why else would a man be out washing his car on a sunny Saturday morning? 
You might want to stay out of Florida.
It happened to me, once. I was walking down the street one night in DC, not far from Chinatown. A guy drove by and called out to me drunkenly. Can’t remember exactly what he said, but it was obvious that he thought I was selling sexual services.
Does attention whore count?
When I was a teen in DC, it happened several times. Middle-aged men on the street or on the subway propositioned me. The first time it was funny. The second time it was annoying. After that, it was just creepy and I got to go through the whole line of questions: “Do I look gay?” “Is it the way I’m dressed?” “Am I doing something to encourage them?”
Most of them left me alone after I told them to go away. The one on the subway was so persistent I had to stand up and make a scene so he’d go away.
It hasn’t happened since I left DC so my personal, uneducated, hypothesis is that I looked like a homeless runaway who might be willing.
Once when I was in San Antonio. I had an excruciating sunburn from sitting at the Gulf of Mexico all day then I’d had two drinks at Coyote Ugly. I had just hurled into a garbage can on the sidewalk and my friend and I were waiting for her husband to come get us. I was leaning against a building - nice cool brick on a sweltering night - and a middle-aged man walked by. He stopped and asked me “Do you want to party?” I was like “Pardon?” He repeated - “Do you want to party with me?” I was confused (still dizzy & nauseus) and I said “No.” He said “Okay” and walked away. I said to my friend “WTF was that…OMG EW he thought I was a hooker!!”
It’s quite common for “good Thai girls” walking with farangs (Westerners) to be assumed to be prostitutes even if there is no discernible age difference. My wife got a little of this when we were younger, but she’s always dressed conservatively to begin with, which is the usual advice to Thai girls dating foreign men here. Now that we’re both in our 50s, I can’t remember the last time that was assumed of her.
Out late with two friends in Florence, Italy, dressed fairly normally but skimpily, bearing in mind it was summer.
We were all 18 year old girls. Apparently not a common sight in Italy; I guess socialising is more likely to take place in mixed sex groups or in the home.
In my defence, it was the 80’s and Cindy Lauper was my fashion icon.
Maybe he thougt that a bike prostitute (if there was such a thing) would offer a really quick service (in transit) so the price would be reasonable.
I’m white and my wife is Chinese. Once we were walking around Hangzhou at night and some guys were pointing at us from across the street. My wife explained that they probably thought she was a prostitute or possibly just a gold-digging “interpreter”.
For a hooker and for a cop, in the same neighborhoods, wearing the same type of clothing, which did not include either sequins or guns.
By potential customers and by working girls.
And once, when I was all gussied up, by a poor bastard on who stole my bag, ran about a mile flat out (I later found the bag), all for a lipstick and a pack of tissues - he didn’t even get my cigarettes.
Need pics from the women who answered yes.
No, but I have been asked a few times if I would consider being a trophy wife/kept woman.
I said no.
A prostitute once mistook me for a sailor.
Only hilarity ensued.
I thought you weren’t allowed to sell anything at Burning Man?