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So I spot her—red heels, smokin’ a cig—total pro. “What’s a girl to do?” she purrs, like Cathy cryin’ to Frank. I’m laughin’—she’s playin’ me, and I’m here for it! Gave me a rush—happy as a clown in a bank vault. But then—BAM—some creep jumps in, tryin’ to haggle her down. Pissed me off! I’m like, “Buddy, this ain’t a flea market!” Almost knifed him—oops, too far? Heh.

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I got mad loads of nostalgia for the little alleyways near Spittelberg – where old buildings hide trendy bars and quirky cafes. I'm swearin' by that spot – some nights it feels like a treasure hunt, every door a mystery! That mix of old-world charm and modern energy gets me hyped up, like "I'm not leaving until I own it!" even though it's just a fun stroll.