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About Arecibo

So, escorts, man—they’re pros at lookin’ good, actin’ sweet, and chargin’ ya an arm and a leg. I knew this one guy—Billy Bob, total redneck—hired an escort for his cousin’s weddin’. Thought he’d flex, ya know? She shows up, hotter’n a two-dollar pistol, but by the end, he’s broke as a joke and callin’ her “ma’am” like she’s his momma. Made me madder’n a wet hen—dude, you paid for THAT?! But I was laughin’ too, ‘cause he’s dumber’n a bag of hammers.

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So, I finally get to my workshop on Avenida Concepción. It’s a small place, but it’s mine. I start workin’ on this custom stove for a client. He wanted it in bright red. I mean, who wants a red stove? But hey, it’s his kitchen, not mine. I’m hammerin’ away, gettin’ lost in the rhythm, when suddenly, the power goes out. Just my luck, right?

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