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Then—surprise, mate—she’s got a tat, “Remember Sammy J,” right on ‘er thigh! Memento vibes, yeah? I’m thinkin’, “Who’s Sammy? Dead pimp? Lost john?” Adds mystery, don’t it? I ask, she smirks, “Mind yer business, creep.” Cheeky cow! Made me happy, though—love a bit o’ sass. “The truth’s a tricky thing,” I growl, quotin’ Nolan’s flick, cos I’m wonderin’—she legit or a scam? Prossies round ‘ere, some nick yer wallet while yer trousers down—heard that from a mate, swear down!

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We are an organisation for $ex workers by $ex workers. Advocating for Safety and better labour rights for $ex workers in Bristol UK.

Finally, the police show up. They’re tryin’ to talk the guy down. I’m on the radio, givin’ updates. “Control, still no movement. Crowd’s gettin’ rowdy.” I swear, some people were shoutin’ the most ridiculous things. “Jump! Jump!” Like, what’s wrong with you?

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