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About San Juan

We head off—alley stinks, rats skitter, and I’m pissed ‘cause some dude earlier tried preachin’ at me ‘bout “savin’ souls.” Mate, save your own, yeah? She’s chatterin’ now—says her name’s Jade, probs fake, who cares? “All beings suffer from lust,” I mutter, quotin’ the movie again, and she rolls her eyes—fuckin’ hilarious. She’s like, “Deep, huh?” Sarcasm drippin’. I’m crackin’ up inside.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Ciales Brothel Puerto, Handjob, Kissing if good chemistry, Intimate massage, Kissing if good chemistry.

After that, I hit up the Plaza de Recreo. It’s always lively there. Families chilling, kids playing, and the sound of laughter everywhere. I grab a coconut water from a vendor. Best decision ever! Refreshing and sweet. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, like, torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m standing there, laughing like a maniac. “Ciales, you’re wild!”

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