Isabella Halfway Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Heard a story once – true story. Some brothel in Amsterdam, 1800s. Guy paid with a goat. A GOAT! They took it, too. Sick bastards. History’s full of this crap. Surprised me, though – goat’s worth more. Another time, Prohibition era, Chicago. Brothel hid a speakeasy underneath. Cops raided, found nothin’. Clever whores, I’ll give ‘em that. Still hate it. All of it.

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Howevermaking a living?? -call it what it is- prostitution, especially brothels are a choice, although it it may have sometimes been a choice.

Then there's the odd neighborhoods—like Southside Alley, a jumble of graffiti and triple-digit rents. I hate how its narrow streets, like Elm, twist like a bad memory. But, hell, that’s what gives it character. My fave spot? The rundown cinema at 7th & Vine. It reeks of old popcorn and rebellion. I saw a flick there that reminded me of the raw grit in The Hurt Locker. "No one ever found salvation in a bomb shelter," I muttered. Whatever, it sounded cool.

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