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About Pecs

Now, lean in, here’s the quirky bit—I’m obsessin’ over their shoes, yeah? Always shiny, clickin’ like beetle wings. Why’s that stick in my head? Dunno, mate, but it’s hypnotic. Oh, and the stories! Heard one about an escort who nicked a bloke’s watch mid-date—cheeky minx! Laughed my arse off imaginin’ him chasin’ her, trousers half-down. Sarcasm? Sure, half these punters think they’re Casanova, but they’re just wallets with legs—escorts know it too, takin’ the piss behind their backs.

We sit down, and he starts telling me about his “big plans.” He wants to insure his collection of vintage bicycles. I’m trying not to laugh. Like, who needs insurance for bikes? But hey, if it pays the bills, right?