Isabelle Tsuno Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Kyoto

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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Yes, he was an undercover sex worker. That's a very sexual life.

It was my boss. “Need you for a meeting!” Ugh, seriously? I was just getting into the zen mode! I rushed back to the office, dodging people like I was in a video game. I swear, I almost tripped over a cat.

Now is not the time to be scared. It is time to consider an L.A. free of the freeways