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About Holon

What’s it like, huh? Drivin’ clients around? Some escorts—get this—got regulars who tip big. One dude I heard of, left a freakin’ Rolex! Surprised me silly—thought they’d just get stiffed, y’know? “Image is a prison”—Godard again! Escorts live that, trapped in looks, but they’re sly—outsmartin’ the game. Ever think ‘bout the danger? Cops, creeps, STDs—shit’s real! Candy’d tell me stories—one john pulled a knife, she floored it outta there. Gutsy gal! Made me wanna hug her, yell at the world—why’s it gotta be so damn rough?

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First off, I hit the streets of Zemer around 8 AM. The sun was shining, and I was like, “Yesss, let’s do this!” But then, I hit the corner of HaShalom and HaRav Kook. Traffic was a nightmare! Like, come on, people! It’s not a race! I swear, I saw a guy in a beat-up old car trying to merge into a lane that didn’t even exist. Classic Zemer, right?

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