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She’s got this voice—grating, like a busted radio signal. Says she’s “independent,” works the streets ‘cause it’s “free.” Free? Ha! You’re a slave to every sleazy jackass with a twenty. I tell her, “Just keep swimming,” like Dory says, but she don’t get it. Too busy counting crumpled bills. Fun fact: back in ‘89, some prostitute in Reno got busted with a CB radio rigged to scam truckers. Clever, but slimy. Hate that crap. Hate the hustle. Hate the fakeness.

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Mar 30,  · One touring sex worker told Bond that Queenstown was a ‘‘nerve-wracking’’ place to work, due to the local bylaws which ‘‘don’t give a lot of clarity’’. That also contrasted with .

So, I roll outta bed, right? It’s like 7 AM, and I’m already late. Queenstown’s streets are buzzing. I mean, who needs coffee when you’ve got the sound of honking cars on Margaret Drive? I grab my toast, and it’s burnt. Great start, huh?

Restricted access only: The secret to Queenstown’s wealthiest suburbs