Hazel Butterworth Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bloemfontein

So, here’s the deal—ya wanna find one? Cities got red-light spots, always have. Back in ‘79, my cousin Earl—dumbass—got nabbed in Reno. Lookin’ for “company,” ended up broke, cryin’. Cops laughed, said, “Rookie mistake, kid.” Ya don’t just stroll up, yellin’ for tail. Nah, it’s hush-hush, coded bullshit. Look for the shady bars, dim lights. Girls linger, eyes sharp, smokin’ cheap cigs. Or—hell—online now, apps and crap. Ain’t my style, sounds like a scam. “The world is my hunting ground,” Carlos growled. Yeah, huntin’ trouble, more like.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Oh, and lemme spill some tea: there's a secret café behind the old church on Jubilee Street. I hang there sometimes. I spill my heart out over a cup of coffee. Sometimes I just think, “This city’s got grit, baby!” And yeah, it grinds my gears sometimes, but that's just a part of its charm, ya know?

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