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About Lausanne

So, I’m cruisin, right? Dodgy alleys, neon lights flickerin like a damn tease. Finding a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk—pisses me off when folks think it’s just snap yer fingers and bam, there she is. Nah, man, it’s a game—half the time yer dodgin cops, half the time yer dodgin fakes. Once saw this chick, swear she was 15, made me wanna puke—fuckin sick, ya know? But then, oh man, I spot her—this curvy lil thing, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter to myself, sizin her up—sharp eyes, sharper wits, my kinda prey.

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I love wandering near Rue du Lac. But wait – I always get lost near Chemin des Ailes. Once, I crashed a meetup 'cause I followed my heart and not the map. Ain't that something? Theres a hidden park, Parc de la Graine, I think – quiet, kinda artsy. Also, near Pont de la Belle, the river flows, whispering secrets, like "the cosmos is just a whisper."

Former Amazon India head nominated to lead Nestle's India operations