Ada Corsico Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bari

I’d saunter up, all awkward, like, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d laugh—*laugh*!—right in my face. “What’s a preacher want with me?” she’d say, and I’d be pissed, like, “Don’t stereotype me, lady!” But also kinda happy ‘cause she’s sharp—sharper than me, probs. Fun fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were called “soiled doves”—ain’t that poetic? She’s a dove, I’m a dork, perfect match.

In Evidenza

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Finally, the lathe arrives. It’s a beauty! I’m talking shiny, new, the works. I’m pumped! But then, I trip over a toolbox. Classic me. I go down like a sack of potatoes. Everyone’s laughing, and I’m just lying there, thinking, “Great, now I’m the clown.”

Alfred Corsico Obituary - Syosset, NY