Eliza Howick Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hastings

Alright. Here’s. My take. On prostitutes. As an insurance agent. I see. All kinds. Of folks. But prostitutes? They’re a trip. I mean. Risky biz. Right? Like Wladyslaw Szpilman. In “The Pianist.” Hidin’. Survivin’. Dodgin’ death. Prostitutes do that. Every damn night. On the streets. “I’m still here.” That’s their line. Straight from the flick. Hustlin’. Duckin’ cops. And creeps. Makes me think. Insurance for them? Ha! Nightmare. To underwrite.

LJ Hooker Howick

Finally, I get back to the shop, and I’m knee-deep in leather and laces. I’m cutting, stitching, and cursing under my breath. I’m so focused, I don’t even notice the time flying by. Before I know it, it’s dark outside. I look up, and the streetlights on Cook Street are flickering on.

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