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We chat, she’s tellin me prices – 50 bucks, quick gig. I’m thinkin, “Life’s too short to be appropriate,” another *Toni Erdmann* gem. So I’m in, but it’s weird, y’know? Not the sex part – that’s whatever – but the whole deal. She’s human, not some movie prop. Surprised me how chill she was, like we’re buddies. “You’re naked under there,” I tease, quotin the flick again. She smirks, “Duh, genius.”

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Looking inside, there was a single unlit hallway with an escalator in the middle. Then I noticed a sorta "red" ambience coming off the first floor. I got closer and I observed a line of four women .

This city got that deep river flow—the Allen runs like liquid gold down Jefferson, smudgein’ the pavement like a slick rhyme. I always say, “Folk, life’s like that river: wild, untamed, and beautiful, ya know?” Just like in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford—snapshots of gritty moments, uncertain yet iconic, man. Like, “I reckon a man is known by the company he keeps” kinda vibe, feel me?

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