Zoe Bray Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Cork

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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And then, the craziest thing happens. I’m sitting there, enjoying my scone, when this old lady comes in. She’s got this wild hair and a shopping cart full of... I dunno, random stuff? She starts chatting me up about the “good ol’ days” in Bray. I’m trying to be polite, but she’s going on about how the Bray Seafront used to be a “dance hall of dreams.” I’m like, “Lady, I just want my scone!”

Man arrested in connection with Bray man's death