Heading up Limestone Avenue the other day, I was hailed down by a damsel in distress who jumped into the car before I could blink and, without any preamble, offered me a blow job for $10. I asked her if she was Limestone Lizzie. ‘Nah, that’s R___’ she replied.
I was referring to the well known prostitute from ages ago who apparently trawled the boundary between Ainslie and Reid and who, somewhat mythically, has been known to reappear over the years.
She repeated her offer so I told her I wasn’t interested in a blow job right then but I’d give her $5 if I could take her photo. She agreed and I took these two photos.
She was (perhaps rightly) quite concerned about her appearance. She looked at the previews and worried about her skin, her eyes, and her head which had recently been relieved of some dreadlocks she said.
Then she asked me for another $5. I refused, referring to our recent negotiations and asserting that the transaction was complete. She then said I could take some pictures of her naked nudeness if I wanted, but, tempting as the offer was, I rejected it.