Scarlett Frankfurt (oder) Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Berlin

So, findin’ a prostitute—where do ya even start? Back in the day, pre-internet, guys’d just wander, lookin’ all sketchy. Now? It’s all apps and coded ads—pretty, pretty sneaky! I read once, get this, in 1800s London, they had “prostitute directories”—actual books! Like Yelp for hookers! Blows my mind, but also—kinda genius? I’d be happy sellin’ those guys insurance—steady gig, right? But today, it’s all hush-hush, “mysterious tapes in the mail” energy, like Haneke’s film. “You ordered this, didn’t you?!” I’d yell at some client, paranoid as hell.

A little lesser-known spot? Check out the little bistro on Am Börnchener Park. It has a hole-in-the-wall vibe—pizza that’s not too bad and coffee that sorta warms your soul. Alot of people skip it, but I’m all "hell yeah!" when I'm in a rush.

The other Frankfurt: an East German city grapples with identity