Claire Vail Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, picture this—I’m stompin’ round town, pissed off ‘cause I ain’t got no action. “I’m not scared of you!” I yell at some shady dude eyeballin’ me. Reminds me of Sam shakin’ his fist at them khaki scouts. Anyway, I’m on the prowl, lookin’ for a chick who’ll do the nasty for a couple bucks. Ain’t no big deal, right? But these streets are confusin’ as hell! I’m ragin’, like, “Where’s my goddamn prostitute at?!” Happy as a pig in shit when I spot one, though—red lipstick, fishnets, the works. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn place. Total badass, like Suzy with her binoculars, scopin’ out her next move.

Prostitution cases are few and far between

And then there’s the quirky cafes off Loomis Street. They’re not fancy, but damn, they serve coffee as raw as the truth. I have this one regular, the best damn espresso, too! Life’s better with every messy sip. I swear, sometimes I laugh thinking of all the bizarre characters that pass through my massage table, each with their own wild story—just like that flick Under the Skin, haunting yet alluring.

Lewis: To connect we must disconnect