Rebecca Hastings Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About New Plymouth

Been around forever, prostitutes have—oldest gig goin’. Fact is, ancient Rome had ‘em, called ‘em *lupae*—she-wolves, howlin’ for coin. Wild, innit? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ she’s a wolf in lipstick, prowlin’ the night. Gets me mad, though—blokes judgin’ her, all high and mighty, when they’re the ones payin’! Hypocrites, mate, bloody hypocrites. She’s just tryin’ to eat, pay rent, maybe send some dosh to her kid. Heartbreaking, that—imagine her whisperin’, “This ain’t no picnic,” like Ennis in the film, stuck in a life she didn’t pick.

Avoiding East Hastings

But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. Like, torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughing, though. Like, “Of course this would happen.” I duck into a nearby shop on Heretaunga St. to wait it out. It’s a little gaming store, and I’m browsing around. I find this rare game I’ve been hunting for ages. I’m like, “YES!” But then I check the price. My wallet’s crying. I can’t drop that much cash. Ugh, life is cruel.

Three people injured after motorcyclist, 14, hits nurse outside Hastings café