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We dig deeper—X posts sayin’ prositution’s been around forever, like ancient Rome had “lupae,” wolf-girls, howlin’ for coin. Cool, huh? But then—bam!—this pimp rolls up, gold chains, actin’ like he owns the block. I’m sittin’ there, tentacles twitchin’, thinkin’, “This guy’s a tool.” Reminds me of *Amour* again—“We’re all alone,” Haneke whispers, but this dude? He’s too loud to be alone. Makes me wanna zap him, but nah, we peaceful.

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I’ve lived here for ages. As a masseur, I vibe with body language and hidden secrets. I picked up on the chill of the art. One day, a client told me, "I live by the way things are." And dang – that cut deep. I've seen scars and hope all mingled on these streets. I sometimes hang out near the little-known El Rincón café on Calle Vieja (hey, try it, they make a mean coffee!) – a secret gem where locals spill their lives like Mad Max spouts crazy quotes.

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