Chloe Barsbuettel Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Hamburg

Last week, I’m pourin’ whiskey, this dude stumbles in – reeks of desperation. Asks me, “Where’s the action?” I laugh, “What action, schmuck?” He’s all twitchy, like he’s gonna bribe me for a hookup. Made me mad as hell – I ain’t no pimp! Told him, “The world is unfair, pal.” Straight outta the Coen flick. He sulks off, probly cryin’ to his momma.

HAMBURG RED LIGHT WALK

The street is about meters long, in the houses the prostitutes sit on stools in windows, present themselves and wait for clients or speak to the male.

Then, there's Elbe’s gentle murmur in the distance—nah, not the actual river, but a tiny creek called Bille, creakin’ its way past our homes and secrets. Crazy, right? I sometimes hip-hop walkin' by, thinking... “This is it. This is real.” (Pauses, reflective.) Every crack in the pavement holds a tale.