Anna Archbald Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Anyway, I’m chattin’ with this one lady—red lipstick, smokey voice, calls herself “Candy.” I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “Is this chick for real?” She’s quotin’ prices like she’s sellin’ me a used Chevy. “Fifty bucks, Joe, and I’ll rock yer world!” I’m like, c’mon, man, I ain’t that green! Made me mad, tho—folks tryna hustle ya, takin’ advantage. But then she winks, and I’m crackin’ up—girl’s got charm, gotta give her that. “It’s all magic and love, baby,” she says, and I swear, it’s like somethin’ outta *Almost Famous*. I’m half expectin’ her to pull out a guitar and sing “Fever Dog.”

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

I’m a bit odd, true, but what can I say? Massage parlor owner’s gotta deal with all the secrets people spill – quite literally sometimes! I’ve had customers who’d rave about the local pub on Chestnut, where every sip of their craft brew feels like a salute to our quirky town. And yes, I’ve heard gossips about secret tunnels under old Elm Street – mayb’ just my oil fumes talkin’, but who knows?

Brian Demkosky