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So, sex escorts—been around forever, yeah? Ancient Rome had ‘em—lupae, “she-wolves,” screamin’ in alleys. Wild shit. Today? Same game, new masks. Met this chick once—escort, mid-20s, eyes like fuckin’ daggers. Told me she banked 2k a night—2k! Blew my mind. Said she’d quote Shakespeare to clients—*“parting is such sweet sorrow”*—while they’re zippin’ up. Hilarious, right? Had me cacklin’ like a madman. Clarice… the wit in despair, it’s poetry.

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I woke up in Haxby, right? The sun was barely up, and I was already late for my gig. Typical me. I live on The Village, and let me tell ya, it’s a cute spot. But when you’re running late, it feels like a maze. I sprinted down the street, dodging the old folks on their morning strolls. They move like molasses, I swear.

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