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I get mad tho—dey’re judged so hard. Like, why? Dey’re hustlin’, survivin’. Happiest I got was hearin’ dis story—some escort saved a guy’s marriage. True stuff! He was all depressed, wife ignored him, den bam—escort listens, he’s alive again. “You’re a little bit in love,” like Carol says to Therese. Dat’s da spark dey sell, ya feel me?

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The working staff is okay, there are some good and bad apples, but the girls are quite catty and competitive. Especially the ones that have been.

Walking down Riverside Dr, near the old Mill Creek, you'll hear memories of ancient strains echoing. "You shall not pass!" I bellow sometimes, just like Gandalf when a fuddy-duddy tries to rush life—nah, slow yer roll! I once massaged an old fella near Eagle Square on a hot day. He mumbled, "Leviathan of the deep, I fear not!" which stuck with me forever.

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