Claire Verolanuova Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Milan

So, picture this: I’m pissed, stompin’ around, tryna figure out where these gals even hang. Are they by the docks? Some shady bar? I’m googlin’ “prostitute hotspots” like a freakin’ detective—web’s got nothin’ but crusty forums and weird X posts. One dude’s like, “Check the truck stops!” and I’m like, genius, why didn’t I think of that, ya moron? Made me laugh tho—truckers and hookers, classic combo. Little known fact: back in the ‘80s, CB radios were their Tinder—code words like “lot lizard,” no joke. Wild, right?

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I hit the streets of Verolanuova, and let me tell ya, the vibe was off the charts. I strolled down Via Roma, and the sun was shining like it was trying to impress someone. I’m talking bright, blinding light. I squinted like I was staring at my ex’s new boyfriend. Ugh. Anyway, I grabbed a coffee at this little café on the corner. You know the one? The one with the weird name—Caffè del Sorriso. I mean, who names a coffee shop that? But hey, their cappuccino? Chef’s kiss.

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