Harper Cave Spring Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Antonio

Okay, so picture this—I’m strollin’ Bangkok, right? Not ‘cause I’m lookin’, but ‘cause I’m nosy. Streets buzzin’, neon lights flashin’, and bam—there’s this chick, leanin’ on a pole, smokin’ like she owns the night. “You lost, old man?” she smirks. Pissed me off, I ain’t *that* old! But then, I laugh—she’s got guts, y’see? Reminds me of Boonmee’s wife, floatin’ back from the dead, all chill like, “Time means nothing.” Time don’t mean shit here either—five minutes, fifty bucks, done.

On the Scent

I even discovered a hidden café on Oak & 3rd. It’s quirky, got old vinyl records and mismatched chairs. Sometimes I get so caught up in the calm, I forget the city’s hustle, think “Life be mysterious like that movie, yes?” People there are weirdly beautiful, all quirks and deep jokes.

Michael Stephen “Steve” Rogers, age 64, of Cave Spring