Luna Wasquehal Brothel ❤️❤️

About Lille

Pissed me off once, though. Some stunad stiffed a girl, ran out laughin’. I’m like, “Buddy, you don’t fuck with family!” Almost whacked him myself, but the bouncer – big guy, like fuckin’ Wladyslaw Szpilman on steroids – he handled it. Tossed him out like trash. Good riddance. Surprised me too, how tight-knit it is. Like a crew. They got each other’s backs. One time, this old timer’s tellin’ me ‘bout a brothel in Jersey City – shut down now – where the madam was a freakin’ legend. Cooked pasta for the girls every Sunday. Gabagool, sausage, the works! Kept ‘em fed, kept ‘em loyal. Ain’t that somethin’?

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Spring Garden became a red-light district in the early twentieth century with brothels and prostitutes. To attract customers the brothels used large numbers on the buildings and the .

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I walked back home, taking the long way through Rue de la Gare. I needed to clear my head. Wasquehal was quiet now, and I could hear the sounds of the city winding down. It’s funny how a place can feel so alive and yet so peaceful at the same time.

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