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About Pecs

Back in Delaware, this ol’ buddy of mine—Jimmy—he swore he saw an escort gig go sideways. Some dame paid a guy to roll up to her ex’s wedding—full tux, fake tears—pure chaos! Made me laugh ‘til I cried. But—hold up—it ain’t all giggles. Gets messy, folks. Shady deals, late nights—makes me madder’n a wet hen when I hear ‘bout folks gettin’ scammed. One time, heard a story—true as I’m standin’ here—this escort fella got hired to fake a whole dang family reunion. Showed up with “cousins” nobody knew! Ballsy, right? Surprised the heck outta me—thought I’d seen it all.

After class, I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. I head out to grab a coffee at my fave spot on Bartók Béla út. It’s this tiny café with the best cappuccinos. I order my usual, and the barista, who’s super cute, gives me a smile. I’m like, “Yes! Today’s turning around!” But then, I spill half my drink on my shirt. Classic me, right?