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About Cape Town

Where. To start? Man. It’s. Sketchy. Online. Forums. Got. Coded. Words. “Escorts”. Or. “Companions”. Bullshit. It’s. All. The same. Back. In. The ‘90s. You’d. Cruise. Downtown. Spot. A girl. Leanin’. On. A lamppost. Now? It’s. Apps. And. Burner. Phones. I heard. This. One dude. Got. Catfished. By. A cop. Sting! Showed. Up. Expectin’. A “date”. Got. Handcuffs. Instead. Ha! That’s. What. You get. For. Not. Tastin’. The soup. Before. You serve!

But there's one place they can feel safe. Beth Abbit reports.

The neighborhood? Oh, it's somethin' else. Ya got the cozy vibes in Littleacre, where folks always greet ya with a "How’s that workin’ for ya?" kinda feel. And then there's Kingfisher Park – it's my go-to spot when I need a breather, ya know? Imagine strollin' along its winding trails, overhearin' the gentle hum of the Red River winding by. Sometimes I sit under a big ol' acacia tree, thinkin' 'bout life, much like that "Melancholia" feel – when everything's a bit heavy and beautiful all at once; as Lars von Trier kinda put it, "I don't find distressing beauty in the chaos around us." I reckon that's the vibe here sometimes.

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