Ava Angleur Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Brussels

Hey. Pal. So – findin’ a prostitute. Huh? I’m thinkin’. Hard. About this. Reminds me – ya know – *Inside Llewyn Davis*. That flick. Man. Llewyn’s driftin’. Lost. Kinda like me – lookin’ for a hooker. Once. In Queens. Cold night. Foggy. Streets – empty. Except her. Standin’ there. Like a cat – *“where you been?”* she says. I freeze. Mid-step. Unexpected!

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You hit up Place du Soleil too, oh my god, the vibes are unreal. I remember one time, I sat in a tiny café there (cursed, but the croissants are lit) just watchin’ the passersby. I swear every date I set up on my site kinda echoed that same buzz—hearts full of messiness and charm. “Let’s put a smile on that face,” I’d mumble when a date would actually click.

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