Audrey Reykjavik Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Reykjavik

What pisses me off? The creeps who treat ‘em like trash. Man, that burns me up—makes me wanna scream, “You’re not worth the mud on my shoes!” like Yubaba chewin’ out Chihiro. But what gets me happy? When ya find one with sass, a real firecracker—reminds me of Lin in the movie, all attitude, no fear. Surprised me once, this chick I met—she knew freaky trivia ‘bout old brothels, like how they’d hide secret rooms for VIPs. Who knew, right? Blew my damn mind.

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The majority of these sex workers are of foreign origin, although it can be hard to actually identify Icelandic prostitutes as they tend to use.

After that, I’m feeling a bit peckish. I hit up a hot dog stand. Best hot dogs ever! I mean, they put everything on it. Ketchup, mustard, crispy onions, and this special sauce. I’m in heaven. I sit down on a bench, and this seagull swoops in. I’m like, “Not today, bird!” But it’s too late. The hot dog’s gone. I’m just sitting there, staring at the empty wrapper like it’s a betrayal.

View From a Hotel Window, 5/23/24: Reykjavik