Natalie Oud Gastel Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Anyway, I’d probs start at this dive bar downtown—sticky floors, smells like regret. Perfect spot to find a prostitute. I’d be chill, sip a beer, scope the scene. Maybe some chick in fishnets winks at me, and I’m like, “Well, hello, darlin’!” Kinda thrilled, kinda freaked—heart’s racin’, palms sweaty. What if she’s a cop? Shit, that’d piss me off—bust my buzz real quick. Or worse, what if she’s got a pimp watchin’ me like I’m dessert? *“A lobby boy can’t be seen to falter!”*—I’d tell myself, keepin’ cool.

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Then, I decided to take a stroll down the Markt. It’s this cute little square where everyone hangs out. I saw some kids playing soccer, and I thought, “Man, I miss those days.” But then, outta nowhere, this dog runs by and knocks over a whole table of flowers. I mean, come on! Poor lady was like, “My tulips!” I felt bad, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

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