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So, check this—back in the day, like, old Vegas stories, they say prostitutes used to hang by the gas stations, waitin’ for truckers, flashin’ smiles like they’re auditionin’ for somethin’. Little known fact: some’d carry switchblades in their boots—badass, right? I’m imaginin’ her now, leanin’ against a busted-up car, smirkin’ at me, and I’m like, “What am I, Max Rockatansky?”—all sweaty and neurotic, yellin’ in my head, “I just wanna talk, lady!” She’s prob’ly thinkin’, “This guy’s a schmuck,” and I’m over here, heart racin’, palms sweaty—pathetic!

Police, Community Discuss Prostitution and Human Trafficking in Syracuse

Since I'm usually on me feet, I scope out da hidden green spaces – like Onondaga Lake Park, you kno? That whole area near the lake is a juicy secret. Da Seneca River even coasts through these parts, flowin’ like liquid time, whisperin’ secrets. Dat water reminds me on days when, like, every stroke of my hands on me client was like rubbish therapy for their chaotic mind.

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