Freya Winters Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

Last week—pissed me off, this chick, all dolled up, quotes me 200 bucks! 200! I’m like, “Sweetie, I ain’t no sucker tourist!” Walked off, laughin—greed is good, keeps ya sharp. Found another, real sly, hidin by a dumpster—prolly 19, smokin a cig, lookin bored as hell. “How much?” I ask, she smirks, “50, take it or leave it.” Hell yeah, I’m happy—score! Reminds me of Amélie’s pops, fixin his gnome—little victories, man, that’s the shit!

A prostitute in a forest in winter

I used to live in the street hooker area of Birmingham. They'd be out in the middle of winter in the tubes miniskirts and heels. Not much else.

Oh, oh, and check this out—here’s a little-known secret: there’s an abandoned barn off Hickory Rd. that’s kinda spooky at night. I used to stroll by when I needed a breather after a long day – totally intense! Reminds me of that “Under the Skin” vibe, all surreal and off-kilter. You’d get chills if you stayed there after dark.

Harvey Winters Obituary (09/16/1932 - 09/18/2024) - Beaverton, OR