Mia Rixensart Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

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Now, lemme talk landmarks. There’s the Parc de l’Abbaye where I chill, think deep thoughts about pleasure and life while watching the water ripple off the lake. Seriously, the reflections remind me of our thoughts when we’re trying to optimize our neural networks. And don’t get me started on the small river that sneaks by – the place is like a hidden easter egg in a video game, unexpected but totally rewarding.

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