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About Gyor

Then there’s the weird shit—clients askin’ for mad roleplays. One bloke wanted her to be a dragon—fuckin’ DRAGON! She’s like, “Mate, I don’t breathe fire, I just fuck good.” Had me in stitches, but also—why? People are mental. Reminds me o’ *Fish Tank* again, that scene where Mia dances, wild, free, but trapped. Escorts got that too—freedom’s a lie, innit?

Finally, I get to the meeting. It’s with this client, an older lady named Erzsébet. She’s sweet but a bit scatterbrained. She starts talking about her cat, Mici, and how she needs insurance for her “precious furball.” I’m like, “Lady, I get it, but we gotta talk about your house too!” But she just keeps going on about Mici’s “special diet.” I mean, who knew cats could be so high-maintenance?