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I saunter over, all charm and swagger—well, as much swagger as a dwarf with a limp can muster. “How much, love?” I ask, eyein’ her like she’s a puzzle. She names a price—steep, but I’ve got coin and a thirst. “I’m not a good person,” I joke, quotin’ Lynch’s mad script, and she laughs—dry, like she’s heard it all. Makes me happy, that sound—rare as a sober day in King’s Landing. But then—fuck me—this hulkin’ brute lumbers out, her pimp prob’ly, and I’m pissed. “Who are you?” I snap, hand on my dagger. Hate these pricks—leechin’ off girls like parasites.

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Apr 22,  · Many women and men working in the sex industry are keen to find ways to limit their exposure only to potential clients.

Oh, and let me tell ya about the local quirks. People are so genuine here. Some would say, "What a nutty town!" but it's this raw love for simplicity and human touch that gets me every time. Not every day do you find someone who offers a free massage talkin’ about the weather! I'm telling ya, it's mad, happy insanity!

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