Megan Centerville Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

Last week—pissed me off—some dude on X bragged ‘bout “classy escorts.” Classy? Ha! Like lipstick on a pig. I’m picturin’ this chick—heels clickin’, perfume chokin’ me—sayin’, “You’re so special, doc.” Bullshit. Reminds me of *Her*: “I can’t live in your book anymore.” Yeah, lady, I ain’t your fairy tale either. Prostitutes don’t love ya—they clock in, clock out. Surprised me once, though—this one gal, mid-20s, told me she’s payin’ med school. Med school! Swear to God, I nearly hugged her—then remembered the germs.

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The downtown area, especially near 3rd & Franklin, bursts with vibrant energy. Dive bars, quirky cafes, street art walls – places where I got to chat 'bout human desires and love affairs. As a sexologist, my spidey senses tingle ‘bout people’s hidden dreams, and lemme tell ya, there's sooo much that fin’ surprises me 'bout folks here. Their whispers in alleyways, late night confessions, and all that jazz remind me that love ain't always sweet – sometimes it's bitter as hell, just like a line from Far From Heaven: "Every heart, motherfer, hides a dark secret."

Indoor pickleball facility planned for Centerville