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About Philadelphia

Gets messy, tho—clients haggelin’ prices, me yellin’, “This ain’t a flea market!” She’s cool as ice, handlin’ ‘em. Personal quirk? I hum the movie score when stressed—duh-duh-duh-duh, epic! Exaggeratin’ now—she’s got eyes like a hawk, spots a tailgater miles off. Saved me arse once—cop car creepin’, she goes, “Floor it, shiny and chrome!” We peeled out, laughin’ like lunatics.

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Charlotte spent years fighting for her life in the streets of California as a sex slave, but calls Snohomish County the worst.

Oh man, I remember one time. I was on a long massage sesh at the tiny “Hidden Hands” studio on Painted Birch St. – yep, the one right by the old market. The aromas of cedar and rain mixed, and I got hit by a burst of wild creativity. And then I thought, “It's like Yi Yi said, every moment is a gateway!” Gosh, my heart pounded!

Interior: Nearly 1,000 children died at boarding schools