Ava Cles Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rome

Oh, and get this—fun fact, yeah? Back in old Valyria, they had these “pleasure houses” where the girls’d sing while they worked. Sing! Imagine that, some tart warblin’ away while you’re—ha! Cracked me up when I read it in some dusty scroll. Prolly a lie, but I’d pay to see it. Anyway, I’m ramblin’—point is, findin’ a prostitute ain’t just a stroll. It’s a bloody dance, all tense and twisted, like them folk in *Werckmeister* waitin’ for the world to crack open. “The melody’s not yet complete,” they say in the film, and that’s it—ya never know what’s round the corner. Could be a good shag, could be a knife in yer gut.

So you want to book a sex worker?

In Quebec, at least 5 of the 14 women in prostitution murdered by men over the last ten years were employed by escort agencies, brothels.

But then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. I’m talkin’ full-on downpour. We dash for cover under a café awning on Corso della Libertà. We’re soaked but laughin’ like idiots. I’m like, “This is the best worst day ever!”

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