Jade Silsbee Brothel ❤️

About San Diego

But—ugh—stinks sometimes. Sweat, booze, desperation—grim. “Can you feel the silence?” Wiesler’d whisper. Yeah, I feel it—between moans, it’s eerie. Dark shit hides there—trafficking, coercion. Pisses me off, mortals fuckin’ up a good thing. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but brothels got layers, mate.

Diary of an escort: Life in one of the capital’s most exclusive brothels

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The streets—man, ol' Main Street buzzes with an energy like a beast runnin’ wild. Walk down Main St., you run past the red brick buildings that whisper low history and the kind of secrets only folks like me know. There’s McKinley Ave, where I always get a kick from the smiling bartender at Sal’s Dive Bar. Yeah, I’ve spilled a few tales there while kneading out the knots of a hard day’s work.

Barbara Ann Owens