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About New York City

Hey, pal, lemme tell ya—findin’ a prostitute? Wild stuff, huh? So, picture this—I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’ slow, like, real curious—like in “25th Hour,” ya know? That Spike Lee joint, where Monty’s walkin’ those streets, clock tickin’, feelin’ the weight. “Fuck me? Fuck you!” he’d yell, right? That’s the vibe I’m gettin’, diggin’ into this. Where do ya even start lookin’? Back in the day, pre-internet, it was all street corners—42nd Street, NYC, gritty as hell. Now? It’s apps, coded ads—shit’s sneaky! Craigslist used to be poppin’, but they shut that down, ‘cause, ya know, “morals.”

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There are so many reasons why someone might want to hire a sex worker. Obviously, for the most part, the reason is: S-E-X. But clearly there’s a lot more to it than just that.

I gotta mention the neighborhoods, too. Over on Bell Road, some of the best families are settlin’ down in modest homes. Hell, I used to drive down Bell Road, wonderin’ how kids and grown-ups sort out their issues sometimes, like in that movie—The Headless Woman—with disjointed memories and all. You know what I mean? Even in chaos, there's hope, sugar.

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