Charlotte Sickte Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

Hmmm, sex escort, you ask? Twisted, this world is! Like “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia,” dark it gets. Me, a telephone operator, yoda-style, vibin’. Seen some shit, I have! Escort gigs—wild they are, shady too. “Who’s there?” I’d say, calls comin’ in late. Dudes whisperin’, nervous as fuck—hilarious, it is! “Do or do not, there is no try,” I’d think. Pickin’ up girls, they’re tryna score. Once, this guy, total perv, asks for “extras.” Disgusted, I was—hung up, boom!

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Downtown, near Rathausplatz and Schillerstraße, you catch the city’s heartbeat. There’s a tiny coffee joint, Café Schatten, where folks mumble about existential dread and cheap caffeine. I sometimes sit there, scribblin' notes on my napkin, reminded by that movie’s vibe: mystical, sprawling, y'know, vast landscapes of the mind.