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About Berlin

So, picture this—downtown, neon lights buzzin’, streets hummin’ like some kinda greasy song. You’re out there, huntin’, lookin’ for that “transactional love”—ha! Ain’t that a kicker? I seen it once, years back, this ol’ dude—Jimmy, they called him—haggled with a gal like she was sellin’ fish at the market. “Ten bucks less, c’mon!” he hollered. She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d pop out—swear to God, funnier than No-Face gobblin’ up them dumplings. Made me laugh, but damn, it stung too—how’s it come to that, huh?

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Okay, ok, listen: I was so mad once at a lame cafe near Lichtenberg. They messed up my coffee order, seriously, m8! And yet, vibe, right? Spellbound in this city madness with my job as a pleasure coach. I absorb passion, vibe, emotions. It's like the town speaks in gentle sighs and crazy exclamations.

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