I've read news articles and UN reports and what not about a global increase in sex trafficking, but until this weekend I never really paid any attention. When I think of human trafficking, I normally think of eastern Europe, southeast Asia, or maybe the cities of the US west coast.

The BBC always has stories about young women smuggled out of places like Romania and Thailand and forced into a life of sex slavery on the vague promise of a better life someday.

I'd never considered that the mid-west would be so deeply involved in the problem. Now I know better. The situation is far more serious than I ever would have imagined. Not only is the problem widespread, but it's unabashedly out in the open.

It's been right in front of me and I haven't noticed. It's in grocery stores and gas stations. It's even in big chains stores, like Wal-Mart and Menards. In fact it was Menards where I first noticed the problem.

Sex trafficking. In Menards. I feel sick.

But I tried so hard not to judge. I needed to be sure it wasn't some kind of sick joke. I had to know it was real.

So I did it. I purchased not one but two little hotties, just to see if it was real. Oh, it was real. It was very real. The young woman at the cash register took my money and smiled at me as I left. She asked no questions. She didn't even give it a second thought.

I now own two little hotties.

I considered setting them free as soon as I was out of the building. I'm ashamed to say I have not done so. It might be wrong, but I paid forty-nine cents for the two little hotties, so I feel I have a right to stuff them in my pants on a cold day.

I'm going to hell, aren't I?