Anna Hollis Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

Ruh-roh! I spot one – she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she don’t give a crap. “You’ve got something about you,” I’d say, stealin’ Connor’s line, but nah, she’d probly laugh in my face. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild – my tail’s waggin’, I’m hyped! Never thought I’d be this close to the action. Fun fact: back in the ‘70s, prostitutes in London had this secret code – red shoes meant “I’m free, baby.” Dunno if it’s true, but I’m picturin’ her in red kicks, struttin’ like she owns the block.

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I gotta tell ya, comin’ from a massage parlor means I notice the tiny stuff. Like that sweet lil’ diner on 5th and Grover. Its neon sign is faded but full of retro soul – and, oh boy, their fries? Wicked crispy! Made me mad one day when the cook forgot my order, but then he nailed it later. Lols!

‘We loved our baby’: Jacksonville street naming honors memory of Tiphne Hollis who was murdered 15 years ago