Zara Torres Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Recife

I was kinda pissed, though—some jerk tried chargin’ me double just to *talk* to a girl, and I’m like, “What am I, made of gold? Back off, creep!” Felt like screamin’, “The intel was bad!”—another “Zero” line, heh! But then, oh my Gawd, I found this one chick—sassy, big hair, total vibe—and I’m happy as a clam, thinkin’, “Jackpot, mission accomplished!” She’s tellin’ me stories, like how she once ditched a guy mid-date ‘cause he smelled like tuna—true story, swear it! I’m dyin’ laughin’, nasal snort and all, “Hahaha, what a schmuck!”

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Oh, and don’t get me started on the night markets – pure madness and magic, with neon lights and hot street food all over. I always joke that the market’s a dating-time warp; one minute you’re buyin’ some feijoada mix, next minute, you hear a band playin’ a tune that makes ya feel alive. “Sharon!” I cry sometimes cause its beauty is unreal.

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