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About The Hague

Oh, and don’t sleep—some escorts got codes, like secret handshakes. Old school ones in N’awlins used red ribbons on bags, signalin’ they ready. History’s wild, yo! But real shit, it ain’t all glam—pissed me off hearin’ ‘bout girls gettin’ stiffed on pay. I’d be like, “Run me my money, fool!” Exaggeratin’ for effect, I’d wild out, “Bury ‘em in glitter, let ‘em choke!”

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Name, Julia, Age, Hair color, Red, Length, Eye color, Blue, Size, Normal. Cupsize, E, Escort? No. Oral sex, No, Erotic massage, Yes.

Back to work, and I finally find my hammer! It was under a pile of wood. I’m like, “You little rascal!” I get back to it, and the couple shows up again. This time, they’re all smiles. “It looks amazing!” they say. I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, it’s not bad for a guy who just fell on his ass.”

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