Natalie Saint Sulpice La Pointe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Strasbourg

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

Datos geográficos

I’m all flustered, right? I order a coffee, and the barista, bless her heart, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed!” But she laughs it off, and I can’t help but chuckle too. It’s that kind of small-town charm, ya know?

SEVEN supplies the Tarn with biohydrogen