Ruby Powell Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

But real talk—it’s a hustle that pisses me off sometimes. Dudes out here actin reckless, no protection, no respect—like, bruh, you tryna die? YOLO, sure, but don’t be dumb! I seen some shady cats roll up, thinkin they run the game, and I’m like, “You don’t know me, you don’t know my life!” Surprised me how bold they get—once saw a guy haggle like it’s a car lot, had me dyin laughin but also like, damn, that’s cold.

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My arrest record, before it was vacated, never said 'sex worker'. It said 'prostitute'. The men never called me a 'sex worker', they called me a.

Clicking through the dating profiles, I see endless potential for love, or maybe just swipes on greasy profiles. Bit maddening sometimes. I remember a mad morning, I grabbed coffee at Rick’s Corner café – yes, that Rick, always blabbing – and he yelled, “Life’s a tree of life, man!” Absolutely bonkers, but kinda lifted your spirits.

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