Aria Beacon Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

I see this one chick, legs for days, leanin’ on a pole. “What’s good, baby?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, *damn, she fine*, but I ain’t no fool. “I glean what’s left,” Varda said—well, I’m gleanin’ info first! Asked her straight up, “You clean? You got a man waitin’ to jack me?” She laughs, says, “Naw, sugar, just me.” Happy as fuck, I’m like, “Cool, let’s roll!” Paid her quick—$50, cheap as hell, but don’t tell nobody that. Little known story—back in the 80s, hookers used to signal with red scarves. Ain’t see that no more, tho.

Prayers for the Red Light District

Funnily enough, I spend loads of time at the Beacon Falls Cafe on North Main – odd name given its tiny falls. But it’s my patch, man. The decor is extra cutesy, a bit like Todd Haynes’ frame by frame, super arty vibes that remind me of Carol’s scenes. Only, I’m not soppy, so don’t look at me weirdly.

David Lee Bennett Obituary