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About Murcia

But then—escort, the *other* kind. Oof, switch gears! Paid company, right? Got me thinkin’—is it rock ‘n’ roll or just sad? Like, “I am a golden god!”—nah, more like “golden wallet.” Saw this X post once—guy braggin’ bout his escort date, linked a pic of her in fishnets. Classy? Nope. Creepy? Yup. Made me mad—dude, she’s not a trophy! But also—kinda fascinating. People pay for connection, fake it ‘til they make it. Wild fact: in Vegas, escorts got business cards—legit, glossy, like they’re sellin’ insurance. Blew my mind!

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I got loads more dope spots: a shuttered antique store on Calle Nostalgia (with unreal vibes), and that secret rooftop cafe over at Mercado de las Voces – perfect for those deep first dates. I swear, every corner has a story, evoking that Kiarostami feel, like “The world has become a courtroom.” Ha!

Figure 5: Profile of the Vallvidrera tunnel under the Collserola hill...