Rebecca Vandalia Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

So, findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic, right? I’m out here, gentle as hell, whisperin’ to my wheat fields, “We’ll make it work, happy little stalks.” But damn, some towns got these shady corners—girls standin’ there, lookin’ like they’re auditionin’ for “the greatest thing you’ll ever learn.” I ain’t judgin’, nah, live and let live, but it’s wild how it’s all hush-hush till the sun dips. Fun fact: back in old France, Moulin Rouge days, them courtesans were legit celebs—high-class hookers with fans, not just randos in the dark!

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Room is dirty, no table in the room and you have to plug you're phone up by the door. Fat woman walking around outside asking everyone if they want company.

Oh man, sometimes I stroll the old cobblestone near Market St. and feel like I'm in a movie—time slows down, just like Li Mu Bai saying, "The things we touch have an effect on us." Magic, right?

David A. Riegel, 82, Vandalia