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About Paris

I’d be strollin, hair all poofed up, mutterin, “Hmm… he’s not my lover,” like in the movie, but swap “lover” for “pimp”—ha! Imagine me sidesteppin some sleazy dude, “Oh no ya don’t, buster!” Prolly get all weepy too, thinkin bout how she’s got no Mr. Chow to sweep her off her feet. That movie’s all bout what ain’t said, right? But here, it’s loud—catcalls, hagglin over prices, no mystery, just cold hard cash.

What to Know Before You Pay for Sex

But then, as I’m cleaning up, I hear this loud crash outside. I rush to the window, and there’s a car accident on Avenue de la République! Some guy rear-ended another car. People are yelling, and I’m just standing there, heart racing. I’m thinking, “Man, this city is wild today!”

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