Rebecca Mercer Island Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, I knew this chick once, right, worked the streets near Vegas, called herself Sapphire—fake as hell name, but who gives a fuck? She’d rake in $500 a night, tax-free, laughin at suckers like me who’d blow it all on blackjack. Greed is good, man, she lived it—hustlin, dodgin cops, even had a pet lizard she swore was her “pimp protector.” Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores in Paris ran secret gambling dens—balls of steel, those broads! Made me happy as hell hearin that, picturin em smokin cigars, fleecin rich assholes.

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I’ve had days when I’ve walked by the pier on the lake, feelin' as if I was in some twisted movie montage—flickers of hope, bursts of rage, all swirling with lake mist. “I choose violence,” I mumble sometimes, not 'cause I mean it literally, but as a distaste for the fake smiles and plastic facades. The city cuts deep sometimes.

'Why does he still have a job?': Gee and Ursula react to bodycam footage of Mercer Island cop