The whorehouse has been in operation since before your town was even named. It destroyed your parents' marriage, and it's now about to destroy your brother's after only two years. You've decided it's time to restore your town's legacy as a place where families can settle and be happy. It's time to take down the whorehouse.
Tonight, you're going to speak out at the city council meeting about what you feel is an infestation of immorality that the town has allowed to run rampant. You'll ask everyone in the audience to raise their hands if their relationships were destroyed by the whorehouse. Only one other person besides you will raise her hand, but she's a prostitute who was disowned by her family when it was discovered she was working at the whorehouse.
"Oh come on," you'll say. "None of your husbands have visited the whorehouse?"
A few women will raise their hands that their husbands had visited the whorehouse. The librarian's assistant, Michelle, will stand up and say, "My husband has patronized that house, yes. But he confessed it and we worked it out. That was many years ago, right after my miscarriage when we had decided that we wouldn't try to have any more children. Our sex life has been fine these past few years and if he's still going there, I'm none the wiser."
Karen, the town Milk Maid, will stand up and say, "My husband banged a whore. So what? He's got 960 days sober now and he did a hell of a lot more that was way worse than hitting up a cathouse."
Another woman will shout anonymously from her seat, "Maybe the men in your family are just a bunch of whoremongers."
That's when the Father Herlihy will come to the podium and read something from the Bible about how Christ dug hookers. As platonic friends only, but still.
"Let's put it to a vote," the chairperson will say. All will vote in favor of keeping the whorehouse open. You'll go home defeated, where your sister-in-law will be waiting to find out whether her husband will no longer have a place to go and pay for sex
"You married the wrong man," tell her. Your mother won't look up from her knitting. "So did you Mama."
She won't stop her knitting.
Sit down and take a breath. "Whoring is in our blood. I'm a carrier, ain't I mama?"
Your mother will suck in a pained breath. "If you ever get pregnant just find out the sex and abort the boys�"
"So I can deliver little girl carriers too?" you'll shout. "So I can curse my daughters to a family full of whoring little boys? I won't be responsible for the spread of venereal disease."
Your mother will return to her knitting. You'll go upstairs and check your coffee can full of savings from your babysitting jobs to see if you have enough money to have your tubes tied. Though your brother will have stolen some to pay for whores, you'll be close. Just a few more months of babysitting and your depraved family bloodline will finally be dammed.
Happy Don't Blame The Whorehouse Day!