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Me, I’d be terrible at it—too loud, too nosy, prob’ly askin’, “Whatcha need me for, sugar?” But dang, the cash? Temptin’. Some escorts pull in thouands—yep, typo, meant thousands—in a night! Little known fact: back in the ‘20s, they called ‘em “taxi dancers”—you paid per dance, like an escort lite. History’s wild, y’all. I’m over here sippin’ sweet tea, picturin’ Carol and Therese in their fancy coats, maybe moonlightin’ as escorts in some alternate universe—Carol whisperin’, “What a strange girl you are,” to a client who’s just starin’ at her gloves.