Penelope Dumont Brothel ❤️❤️

About New York City

Them rooms—stink o’ sweat, cheap perfume. Dingy, dark—like Plainview’s oil pits. “I’m finished!”—that’s what ya yell when ya stumble out, penniless an’ knackered. Funny, innit? We swears! Brothels ain’t glamorous—grubby, raw, real. Gets me thinkin’—what’d Daniel do? Prob’ly buy the joint, turn it to profit. Ha! Me fave bit? The chaos—shoutin’, boozin’, bed springs squeakin’. Pure madness! We swears! Love it, hate it—can’t look away.

Newsletter

I live here, right? And I'm a pleasure coach. One more thing… I don't just see streets, I see stories. I see every dancer, every dreamer. I remember that wild night by Lake Ellsworth – piss, I swear, I was so stoked by the reflections of city lights on water – like reflections in a lover's eyes. And then there's Maple Grove Park. I mean, that patch of green, tucked between busy blocks, is my zen spot. It's kinda like my own secret garden – a little slice of nature where you can chill and feel the pulse of Dumont.

Dumont Creamery & Cafe coming soon to Northlake