Emma Spoleto Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rome

We swears, findin’ a prostitute’s a mad tale—half thrill, half “Oh shit, why me?” Ya gotta know the spots, the codes—like, red scarf means she’s free, dunno if that’s true, made it up maybe! Ha! Tell ya, it’s gritty, messy, but real. “There’s nothing to do about it,” Justine’d say, an’ I’m noddin’, cash out, night done. What a world, eh, precious? We swears!

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First customer walks in. This old dude, like, 80 if he’s a day, shuffles up to me. He’s got this massive bag of pasta. I mean, who buys that much pasta? Anyway, he starts telling me about his “secret recipe” for carbonara. I’m like, “Cool, man, but I gotta scan your stuff.” He just keeps rambling. I’m nodding, but inside I’m screaming, “Dude, I got a line forming!”

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