Willow Haren Prostitute ❤️

About Tilburg

But it ain’t all roses, nah. Pisses me off how some schmucks judge ‘em. Like, who gives a rat’s ass? They’re out there grindin’, makin’ it work. Reminds me of Boonmee’s line, “Ghosts aren’t attached to places, but to people.” Escorts got their own ghosts – past johns, bad nights, maybe a pimp who screwed ‘em over. Little known fact? Old-school escort ads used to run in legit newspapers – yeah, 1920s, right next to the obits! “Massage services,” they’d call it. Wink fuckin’ wink.

“A SIMPLY STUNNING MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR BROTHEL!”

Some had relatives who took care of them. Some simply became beggars. Many became prostitutes. It's not a long way from the harem to the brothel.

First off, I’m cruising down the Hoofdstraat, thinking about my first appointment. This dude, let’s call him Mr. Grumpy, is supposed to be all about that life insurance. But nah, he’s more like Mr. “I hate everything.” I walk in, and he’s just sitting there, arms crossed, looking like he just bit into a lemon. I’m like, “Hey, how’s it going?” And he just grunts. Like, come on, man! I’m here to help you, not to be your punching bag.

Seattle City (spot)Light: Kelly Haren