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About Graz

What pisses me off? Da judgin’! People look down, call ‘em names, but dese escorts, dey’re tough, dey’re survivors, like me pumpin’ iron at 5 a.m.! I respect dat grind. Happy? Oh, when I met dis one gal, she knew all my lines—“Get to da chopper!”—cracked me up, best night ever! Surprised me too, how smart some are—dis one chick, she spoke four languages, I’m like, “Hasta la vista, my brain can’t keep up!”

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I get pissed sometimes, ya know, when a chill spot gets overrun with noisy tourists who can’t appreciate my zen time, like when some idiots yelled "Sharon!" for no reason – proper flashback to one of my craziest days! Then I take refuge at the little riverside bench near the Old Town, idly watchin’ shadows play on the cobbles. Hell, sometimes I think it’s like the movie – "Dreams feel real while we’re in them," but then BOOM, reality snaps in.