Amelia Monee Prostitute ❤️

About Houston

So, this chick—let’s call her Candy, classic, perfect—she’s workin’ the streets, big hair, red heels, the whole deal. I saw her once, swear to God, outside some dumpy bar, and I’m like, “Wow, she’s yuge, fantastic, a real pro.” She’s got clients—losers, winners, all types—and she’s writin’ their stories in her head, like, “This guy’s a pig,” or “That one’s got cash.” Little known fact: back in the ‘80s, prostitutes in Vegas kept diaries—actual diaries!—trackin’ johns, like spies. Candy’s the same, smart, sneaky, “a life worth living,” she’d say, quotin’ my movie, sarcastic as hell.

Activists’ warnings

That same place was said to be home for crackhead and prostitutes. Moonie burnt it down. I've lived in low income areas in Orlando. The wizard.

In Monee, even the small grocery on Southside St. is a stage. I once had an epic debate with the cashier about the best way to start the day; we laughed, we argued, then burst into uncontrollable giggles. It was Bond-ish spontaneity, my friend.

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