Anastasia Reze Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Lille

Now, here’s a lil’ factoid—didja know prostitutes in old France, like way back, used to hide in haystacks? Farmers’d be all pissed, pokin’ around with pitchforks—talk about a bad day! Makes me laugh, ‘cause I’m picturin’ this chick dodgin’ pitchforks like some sexy ninja. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up—yeah, me, Marge!—and she’s tellin’ me how she’s got regulars, guys who tip big, and I’m like, “Good for you, sister!” Kinda made me happy, y’know? Girl’s got grit!

Prostitution:

Next stop, I gotta meet another client at the bank on Rue de l’Église. I’m running late, of course. I get there, and the line is out the door. I’m standing there, dripping wet, and this old lady in front of me starts chatting me up. She’s sweet, but I’m like, “Lady, I’m in a hurry!” She’s telling me about her cat, and I’m nodding, but my mind’s racing. “I need to get to the meeting!”

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