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About Lodz

I saunter up, all charm, “shaken, not stirred,” voice smooth as silk. She’s givin me the eye—prolly thinks I’m loaded, which, fair, I look it. “How much, love?” I ask, casual, but inside I’m buzzin—happy as a pig in shit. She names a price, I’m like, “fuckin steep, that!”—but I play it cool, cos Bond don’t haggle like a twat. Fun fact: in Amsterdam, they got windows for this—legal, tidy, no messin about. Here? It’s a gamble, mate—cops, pimps, the lot.

Escorts Promoted

First off, I hit up ul. Kościuszki for some coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting for my latte, and this dude in front of me orders a “double shot, extra foam, with a sprinkle of unicorn dust.” Like, what even is that? I’m just trying to get my caffeine fix, not listen to a fairy tale.

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