I remember it all very well looking back. It was the Summer I turned eighteen. Those were the words that began the tale of Fancy, the poor country whore to come up to rub 'elbows' with Kings, Congressmen, and occasional Aristocrats. She had but one chance in 1969, when Bobbie Gentry sang of her tale in the exhale of a cigarette. If you didn't know her then, how could you forget the famous retelling of her story that made the career of Reba McIntire? The culture and the music have changed. But, the oldest profession in the book is still played by the same rules that have always been.
Money up front, duh! That's rule number one. If you don't know that... If you gon come up to me and you don't know that, then you ain't been in the game long enough, honey, to deal with this...
