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About Paris

Alright, so here’s the deal—finding a prostitute, huh? I mean, what’s the world come to? It’s like “Requiem for a Dream” out there—everyone’s chasing somethin’, spiraling down, lookin’ for that fix. Me? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’, “Pretty, pretty good,” right? But nah, it ain’t that simple. You wanna find one? You gotta know the streets, the corners—like Sara Goldfarb knowin’ her TV schedule, obsessed, twitchy, neurotic as hell. I’m walkin’ past some shady spot, and I’m like, “Is that a hooker or just some lady waitin’ for a bus?” I’m paranoid, sweatin’—what if I ask and she’s NOT? Total Larry David moment, screamin’ in my head, “I’ve made a huge mistake!”