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Oh, and the quirks—some escorts carry two phones: one for “hi, mom,” one for “hey, daddy.” Hilarious split life! I’d suck at it—too clumsy, I’d trip in heels, spill wine, “Oops, there goes your $500 date!” *Grand Budapest* energy, tho—elegance masking total mayhem. “Keep your hands off my lobby boy!”—imagine an escort yelling that at a grabby jerk. Gold.

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We finally get outside, and I’m standing on the pavement, trying to calm everyone down. It’s a bit chilly, and I’m regretting my choice of a light jacket. I’m shivering, and this old lady next to me starts chatting about the weather. “It’s always like this in Dalton,” she says. I’m thinking, “Yeah, and it’s always raining too!” But I just nod and smile.

Council determined to tackle blight of roadside litter