Victoria Midleton Whore ❤️

About Galway

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

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The other plotlines – frustrated young lovers, idiot young man duped into marrying a whore – these are boringly familiar. But the Whorehound-.

Then, we cruise down Church Lane. Beautiful street, right? But Jamie’s still clueless. They nearly take out a cyclist. I’m like, “Dude, you can’t just swerve like that! This ain’t Mario Kart!” I’m half-laughing, half-pulling my hair out.

High Hopes For Midleton After Encouraging Start To #EnergiaAIL Season