Amelia Pleszew Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Krakow

I’d finally spot one, okay? Some chick in fishnets, leanin’ on a wall, and I’m like, “Oh god, oh god, what now?” I’d stumble over, all nervous, sayin’, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d smirk—SMIRK!—and I’d be furious! “Don’t judge me, lady, I herd sheep all day!” I’d haggle, too, ‘cause I’m cheap— “Twenty bucks, that’s it, take it or leave it!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d think, “This is worse than Auschwitz,” which—yikes—too far, Larry, reel it in! But that’s my brain, ping-pongin’ like Saul’s, from panic to dark humor.

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So, I dust myself off and head to the market. You know, the one by ul. Poznańska? It’s buzzing with life. Vendors shouting, people haggling. I grab some fresh bread, and this old lady starts chatting me up. She’s like, “You’re a gladiator, right?” I’m thinking, “Yeah, but I’m not here for a fan club meeting.” But she’s sweet, so I humor her.

Marian Bogusz - Biography | Artist