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About Marseille

But nah, she’s all biz. I ask, “How much, sugar?” She smirks—ooh, that smirk made me mad! Like, who’s she to judge me, right? She says, “50 bucks, blondie,” and I’m like, “50?! For what—two minutes?” Made me wanna scream, but I laughed instead—happy, surprised, all at once. Did ya know—fun fact—back in the ‘50s, gals like her charged a damn nickel? Inflation’s a bitch, huh!

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The neighborhoods? There’s Le Bourg, very old, filled with cobbled alleys, cool cafes that seem to whisper tales of yore. You’ll find hidden murals and graffiti splashed in wild colors. Some say it’s artsy, I says misfit wonderland! I once got angry ‘cause some rude brush splashed my secret spot outside my massage studio. So angry, I nearly smashed a mug, but then remembered, “Time to let the anger pass, like a passing train in the night.”

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