Rebecca Ephraim Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Chicago

We swears! Saw one once, bold as brass. Skirt hiked up, cig hangin’ loose. Reminds me Ida’s aunt—tough, broken, real. “You’re a funny creature,” she’d say. Prostitutes, they’re survivors, innit? Hustlin’, dodgin’ coppers, makin’ ends meet. Mate, one time, heard this tale—girl in Paris, 1920s, hid cash in her knickers. Tax man never found it! Clever, eh? Makes me grin, them outsmartin’ suits.

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