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About Montpellier

So, real talk—where do you even start? Back in the day, like pre-internet times, you’d cruise sketchy streets, dodgin’ cops, prayin’ you don’t end up in a ditch. Fun fact: in old-school NYC, the meatpacking district—yeah, where all the fancy boutiques are now—used to be hooker central. Blows my mind! Now? It’s all digital, baby—apps, sites, coded ads. You’re scrollin’, thinkin’, “Is this legit or am I about to get catfished by some dude named Gary?” Makes me wanna scream—half the time I’m pissed at how shady it gets, half the time I’m laughin’ at the absurdity.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Max. He’s like, “Dude, meet me at Café de la Paix.” I’m like, “On my way!” So I sprint over, dodging tourists and their selfie sticks. Seriously, why do they think they own the sidewalk?

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