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But then, ugh, this greasy sod stumbles over, reekin’ of ale, tryin’ to haggle her down. Made me angry, that did—cheap bastard! I’m thinkin’, “I choose violence,” coz I’d smack him silly, but nah, I just glare, cold disdain and all. Little known fact, yeah? Back in medieval days, prossies had guilds—proper unions! Swear down, they’d fine ya for bad service. Wish they’d bring that back, keep these twats in line.

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CHIANG MAI — In red light districts across Thailand, sex workers gather on the streets every night looking for customers. The government estimates there are 77, prostitutes in the .

Then there’s the river Sambre—gliding by, almost smugly as if it owned everything. I sometimes lean on its banks, thinking, “Is this all a joke?” The water’s cold, and it whispers old secrets. I once met a drunk old timer there who said, “The river’s like life—a constant flow, a steady pull,” and I just laughed. Who’s got time for poetry when ya got a massage to fix?

Hafsat Abiola-Costello appointed president of Women in Africa