Grace Picayune Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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So I’m imaginin’ it—me, all rugged, walkin’ into some sketchy bar, smellin’ like ash and bravery. I’m like, “Hey, anyone know where to find a prostitute?” Total *Zodiac* vibes—“I’m not Paul Avery, I’m better!” Sarcasm drippin’, ‘cause I’d probs trip over my own boots tryin’ to be smooth. Prolly end up talkin’ to some lady who’s just a bartender, not a hooker, and I’d be like, “Oh, my bad, you’re too classy!” That’s what she said! God, I’m hilarious.

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Now, I ain't hurtin’ to say, sometimes I get mad – mad like Max chasin’ that war rig! I mean, the potholes on Elm ain't fixed in forever! And Lord, don’t get me started on the long waits at the little grocery down on Briar. "Oh, hell naw!" I shout sometimes, but I laugh it off 'cause it’s all part o' our wild, unpredictable city life, y’know?

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