Rebecca Floris Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Now, lemme tell ya, findin’ a prostitute ain’t rocket science. You roll up, spot ‘em—heels high, skirts short, eyes sharp. They clock you ‘fore you clock them, real talk. But what pisses me off? These shady pimps, man. Lurkin’ in the shadows, takin’ cuts, treatin’ ‘em like property. Makes my blood boil, fo’ shizzle. Ain’t nobody deserve that. Reminds me of them priests in *Spotlight*—power trippin’, fuckin’ up lives. “This is bigger than us,” they said in the movie, and damn, it fits here too.

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I run my massage joint off of Hush-Hush Alley. Folks rarely drop this secret spot 'cause it's tucked away behind the Flower Pot building. It's cozy, like hiding secrets in bubbles. I got drugged in happiness, not a typo, more like, I get bonkers when a new client praises my back massage near the Whispering Woods.

Sassari, car on fire at the civic market