Ellie Robbiate Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

Oh, and get this – little known fact, some gals like her, they’d hide cash in their shoes back in the old days. Sneaky, right? Prolly still do – who’s checkin? Not me, I ain’t that bold! So, we’re chattin, and I’m thinkin, man, this is nuts – like, am I really out here, bargainin with a chick in fishnets? “How much, sugar?” I ask, and she hits me with, “Depends on the ride.” I’m dyin laughin – what a line! Pure gold. Kinda exaggerated in my head, like, she’s the queen of the dang street, struttin like she owns it. Maybe she does, who knows?

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m talking torrential downpour. I’m sprinting for cover, and I duck into this little café on Via Dante. I’m soaked, looking like a drowned rat. I order a pastry to cheer myself up. It’s delicious, but I’m still grumpy about the rain. I mean, come on, Robbiate! Can’t a person catch a break?

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