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Exaggeratin’ for a sec—imagine me hirin’ one! Apollo struttin’ in, all “I’m the champ, baby,” and she’s like, “Cool, that’s $500.” I’d laugh my ass off, then cry ‘cause I’m broke. Real talk, tho, escorts got stories. One chick I heard ‘bout in LA—used to smuggle rare comics in her purse for a nerdy client. Comics! Who knew, right?

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Then, this dude walks in. He’s got this wild hair, like he just got outta a wind tunnel. He orders a drink, but he’s so loud, I can’t even hear him. I’m like, “Bro, chill! We’re not at a concert!” But he’s all hyped up, talking about some festival happening down by the river. Apparently, it’s a big deal, and I’m like, “Great, just what I need—more people!”

Maroš Jambor named Chef de Cuisine at Zlatá Praha at Fairmont Golden Prague