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About Gyor

But the creeps? Ugh, they make me wanna puke. Some johns think they own ya—fuck that noise. Heard a story—dude got his ass beat by an escort with a stiletto. Hilarious! Deserved it, the prick. Little known tale—there’s a code, see? Escorts got rules, like firefighters got gear. Respect’s the name of the game, or ya out. Surprised me how tight-knit they are—crew stickin’ together, like us droppin’ into a blaze.

First off, I spilled coffee all over my favorite shirt. Classic, right? I mean, who needs a clean shirt anyway? So, I threw on a hoodie and dashed out. I was late for my meeting at the local café, the one on Fő utca. You know, the one with the best pastries? I swear, their croissants are like little clouds of buttery heaven.