Lauren Bodegraven Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rotterdam

So, findin’ a prossie—where do ya even start? Back in the day, they’d slink round Flea Bottom, all sneaky like, dodgin’ the Gold Cloaks. Little known fact: some o’ them girls? Trained in Braavos, yeah, proper assassins moonlightin’ as whores—how’s that for a twist? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ bout some lord payin’ for a tumble and endin’ up with a dagger in his gut. Brilliant. I’d hire ‘em just for the chaos.

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So, I keep walking, and I hit the local market. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that good stuff. I’m eyeing some strawberries when this guy starts haggling like he’s at a flea market. “I’ll give you two euros for a kilo!” I’m like, “Bro, chill. It’s not a bidding war.” But the vendor just rolls his eyes.

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