Brooklyn Birr Prostitute ❤️

About Bray

I ain’t judgin’. Nah. Live and let live. But—pisses me off! When folks sneer at ‘em. Like, “Oh, you’re ABOVE that?” Hypocrites! Makes me wanna yell—*“You’re not PERFECT either!”* Had this one regular—John, probs not his name. Smelled like cheap cologne. Bragged about “his girls.” Made me sick. But then—this other gal. She laughed. Loud. At my dumb joke. “Cashier’s a ROCKSTAR!” she says. Made my day. Surprised me—prostitutes got humor!

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By the afternoon, I’m running on fumes. I’ve dealt with lost pets, flat tires, and a million traffic jams. But then, I get a call from a kid. He’s lost his way to the playground by the River Little. I’m like, “Kid, just follow the sound of laughter!” But I guide him anyway. It’s kinda sweet, you know?

Treasured Birr shop front will be retained during renovation work