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About Stuttgart

So, I stumble into this grimy port town—thinkin’, “This is my shot, baby!” Bars are loud, lights flicker, and I spot her—red heels, smokey eyes, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. My heart’s racin’, “Is this it? Am I *in*?” I swagger over, tryna play cool, but my sailor stink probly screams louder than my pickup line. “Hey, sugar, wanna make my night less ‘sea’-sick?” She smirks—oh, that smirk!—and I’m hooked. “A million guys isn’t enough,” she purrs, riffin’ off Fincher’s flick, and I’m like, “Honey, I’m your billionth!”

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Then you got the lake itself – Weissensee! Yeah, the actual lake. Mornings there are, like, poetry in motion. I remember once, so mad ’cause some nosy fat-cat disturbed the peace. But then, just like that, calm took over. I sat by the shore at Am Seeufer, dreamin’ of clandestine rendezvous. So romantic, right? Much like those slow-motion glances Wong Kar-wai drops in his film!

Walter Weissensee, 81