Elizabeth Matsuto Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

Real talk—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic. Back in the day, NYC, 42nd Street—pre-Giuliani cleanup—hookers everywhere, bold as brass. Little known fact: some’d use secret hand signals, like my job! Flick a wrist, tilt a head—boom, deal’s on. I’d be signin’ back, “What’s the rate, lady?”—total pro move. But now? It’s all online, Craigslist is dead, apps are king. Sketchy as hell—makes me wanna scream! What if I accidentally swipe right on my cousin? Disaster!

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A private meeting with a geisha as a tourist seems impossible. Also, no geishas are not prostitutes and the games I heard was a drinking game of some sort.

So, we start dealing, and I’m on fire! Cards are flying, and I’m raking in the chips. But then, bam! This lady at the back starts yelling. I look over, and she’s flipping out about losing. I mean, c’mon! It’s a game! But she’s like, “You’re cheating!” I’m like, “Lady, chill! It’s just luck!”

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