Amelia Nole Brothel ❤️

About Florence

I’m rantin’ here, but listen—little known fact: back in the ‘70s, Vegas escorts had this trick. They’d slip a mickey in your drink—boom, you’re out, wallet’s gone. Like somethin’ outta a mob flick! Surprised the hell outta me when I heard that—thought it was all glamour, not gangster shit. And don’t get me started on the prices now—$500 an hour? For what, a rubdown and a wink? I’d rather buy a new cleaver, I swear! Makes me mad, all that cash for a quickie—gimme a break!

Legal situation

Finally, we manage to slip through a side street—Via San Felice, I think. It’s a narrow little thing, and I’m just praying we don’t run into any more trouble. But of course, Nole’s got other plans. We bump into a street performer, this dude juggling flaming torches. I’m like, “Dude, not now!” But he’s in his own world, and I can’t help but chuckle.

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