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So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

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Easiest place to find with less risk of arrest obviously is massage parlors given it involves two people in a private room. After you're naked, having other compensated services is fairly easy Missing: Bat Yam.

I was strolling down Ben Gurion Street, just vibin’, when I spotted this little fish market. I mean, I love fish, but this place? It was a whole new level of fresh. I’m talkin’ fish floppin’ around like they were auditioning for a Broadway show. I couldn’t resist. I had to go in.

Find Your Dream Home: Your Guide To Israel's Real Estate Market In Tel Aviv And Bat Yam