Leah Vire Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Lille

Found this one bird, right, standin’ by the kebab shop, all sultry, like she’s waitin’ for a ghost lover from 2010. “You see me in the shadow?” she says, channin’ Boonmee vibes, and I’m like, “Bruv, I see ya, and I’m hyped!” She’s got them eyes, deep like the Thai forest, and I’m thinkin’, “This is peng!” Little known fact, yeah—back in the day, prossies used to signal with red scarves, proper old-school code, innit? Made me happy, like, “History’s alive, fam!”

So you want to book a sex worker?

Given Hochschild's earlier noted definition of emotional labor, a prostitute who fakes sexual attraction so that her client will believe she is enjoying sex.

Then I hit up this café on Rue des Forges. Best croissants ever! I mean, buttery, flaky goodness. But the barista? Ugh. She was all smiles until I asked for a cappuccino. She looked at me like I just asked her to solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. “We don’t do that here,” she says. I’m like, “What do you mean? It’s France!” But whatever, I settled for a black coffee. Not the same, but hey, caffeine is caffeine, right?

Roche Schulfer, the Goodman Theatre’s Shrewd Steward