Eliza Morant Bay Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Montego Bay

Last time, tho—got me pissed! This chick, all dolled up, says “50 bucks!” I’m like, “For what, a handshake?” Total rip-off, mate! Stormed off, mutterin’—why so serious, huh? But then—THEN—this other gal, red hair, smokin’ a cig, leans outta a window. “Hey, sailor, lost?” she purrs. Heart’s racin’, I’m hooked! She’s got that mystery, like the dad in the movie—“I’m back, but why?” Didn’t even care, just followed her up.

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So I roll up to this big ol’ mango tree on the corner of Bay and Main. It was lookin’ kinda rough, branches droopin’ like it was havin’ a bad day. I’m thinkin’, “This tree needs some serious TLC.” I get my gear out, and just as I’m about to climb, this lady comes up to me. She’s like, “You can’t cut that tree! It’s my favorite!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m not cuttin’ it, just givin’ it a trim.” But she was not havin’ it.

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