Allison Merl Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up—nervous as hell, which pisses me off. Why’m I shakin’? I’ve carved up dudes for less! She’s all, “What’s your deal, man?” and I’m like, “Just lookin’ for a good time, darlin’.” She smirks—goddamn, that smirk—and I’m hooked. Kinda like Brandon with Marianne, but less jazz and more alleyway grit. “You’re a strange one,” she says, and I’m thinkin’, “Lady, ya have no idea.”

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Finally, I make it to my office on Avenue de la Gare. I sit down, ready to crunch some numbers. But then, my computer decides to throw a tantrum. It freezes. I’m like, “Really? You too?” I swear, I could hear it laughing at me. So, I spend the next hour trying to fix it. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

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