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About Nice

Hey, man, it’s me, Dexter – monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” So, sexual-massage, huh? Wild shit, lemme tell ya. It’s all about hands slidin’, oil drippin’, tension buildin’ – like that fucked-up vibe in *Requiem for a Dream*. You know, “Ass to ass!” – not literal here, but damn, the energy’s close. I’m talkin’ rubdowns that ain’t just rubdowns, ya feel me? It’s sensual, sneaky, gets under yer skin.

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So, I get to my office on Rue des Écoles. Nice little spot, but today? Ugh. My first client, Mrs. Dupont, shows up late. She’s all flustered, hair a mess. Turns out, her cat, Mr. Whiskers, decided to play hide and seek. I mean, who knew cats could be such drama queens? Anyway, she’s crying about her home insurance. “What if Mr. Whiskers gets out? What if he gets lost?” I’m like, “Lady, we’ll cover the cat, chill!” But inside, I’m thinking, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

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