Scarlett Dalmine Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

So, picture this – I’m stumblein’ down some dodgy alley, yeah? Smells like piss and regret, but I’m buzzin’, fuckin’ buzzin’! This ain’t no posh gig – nah, it’s raw, it’s gritty. You gotta know the code, right? Little fact for ya – back in Victorian times, prossies used to flash red lanterns, secret signal, innit? Nowadays, it’s all sneaky nods and “Oi, love, you workin’?” Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – she’d kill me if she knew, but I’m Ozzy, I see the shadows dance, don’t I?

Escort Dalmine

But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a nearby café on Via Dante, and it’s packed. I’m standing there, dripping wet, and this guy offers me his seat. I’m like, “Wow, chivalry isn’t dead!” But then I realize he’s just trying to hit on me. Ugh, no thanks, buddy.

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