Sophie Tain L'hermitage Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Heard this wild story once – true sh*t – ‘bout a prossie in Amsterdam who kept a lil diary. Scribbled names of johns, rated ‘em like Yelp reviews! “Stinky Dave, 2 stars, bad tipper” – hilarious, right? Cracked me up! Bet she’d smirk at that, sassy as hell. Prolly got a fave client too, some shy dude who just wantsa talk – reminds me of me, overthinkin’ everything, “Oh dear, oh dear!”

First off, I hit up Rue de la République. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Grabbed a coffee at this cute little café. The barista? Total legend. He made my cappuccino look like a work of art. I mean, I’m no art critic, but I could’ve stared at that foam all day. But then, bam! My phone buzzed. A message from my buddy, Leo. “Dude, gig tonight at the amphitheater!” I was like, “Heck yeah!” But then I remembered—my strings were shot. Ugh.

The New World of the northern Rhône