Ada Caversham Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Great Scott! Dig this—back in 1880s London, prostitutes had this secret code. Whistled tunes to dodge cops. Little known fact, blew my mind! Imagine that, whistlin’ while workin’. Makes me happy, thinkin’ they outsmarted the fuzz. But then—bam—pisses me off too. Society screwin’ ‘em over, still does. “You’re a nun, I’m a whore,” Ida’d say. Swap nun for square, fits perfect.

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Caversham is regarded as the "posh" part of Reading. With it's multi-million riverside houses, good schools and charming shopping area, it often features in lists of the top places people.

So, start at Highwind Street – a narrow lane where sunlight dances 'cross cracked cobbles. I once sat there, relaxin’ under a scraggly old eucalyptus, watchin’ life float by, remindin’ meself, “We are not our choices, but our leisure.” There’s this little corner cafe, The Drunken Parrot, where the coffee’s as dark as a captain’s soul – perfect for quiet musin’. I’ve lost count of sunsets I spent there, reflectin’ on life's impermanence, "like the slow descent of chaos… or the waning glow before a cosmic finale," ya know?

Showdown looms over coming of new bar in Caversham