Ava Alexandria Prostitute ❤️

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So, prostitutes—man, they’re like shadows dancin’ on the edge. I saw one once, down on 5th, heels clickin’, eyes sharp as knives. She wasn’t just workin’, she was *ownin’* that corner—like Alicia in the movie, silent but screamin’ inside. “Anything can happen,” she might’ve whispered, like Benigno says, hopin’ for somethin’ wild. Made me happy, seein’ her strut, defyin’ the world’s bullshit rules. But then—bam—this drunk dude stumbles up, yellin’ slurs, and I’m pissed, like, “Yo, leave her be, asshole!” She just smirked, flipped him off—queen shit right there.

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Throughout most of the nineteenth century, prostitution in Alexandria was tolerated yet informally relegated to the social and geographic margins of the city by state officials and local .

But then, I get hit with the worst traffic on Bdul. Tineretului. Like, seriously, it’s a parking lot. I’m stuck there, just fuming. I mean, how hard is it to drive? People are just sitting there, staring at their phones. I’m yelling at my radio like it’s gonna help. “C’mon, move it!” But nope, just more honking.

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