Emilia Old Harbour Bay Whore ❤️❤️

About Spanish Town

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

Information

First off, I hit up the local café on Main Street. You know, the one with the best coffee? Yeah, that one. I ordered my usual—double shot espresso, no sugar. I need that jolt, ya know? But the barista, bless her heart, totally messed it up. I got a caramel macchiato instead. Ugh! I mean, who drinks that? Not me! I was ready to throw it at the wall, but I just took a deep breath. “Stay calm, IT evangelist,” I told myself.

Juan González Mijares | Pedestrian egrets