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About Cluj-Napoca

Oh, and get this—some escorts got codenames, like spies! “Raven” or “Velvet,” all mysterious. Cracked me up, picturin’ ‘em whisperin’ “the tempest scourges” like in *The Turin Horse*, all dramatic while settin’ a date. I’m half-tempted to yell “You shall not pass!” at clients who don’t tip—rude sods! Truth is, it’s a grind—lonely, risky, like draggin’ that horse cart through muck. Surprised me how some escorts love it, though—freedom, cash, bein’ their own boss. Respect that, even if it ain’t my cuppa.

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Then, I hop on my backup raft. Yeah, I got a backup. Don’t judge! It’s a little wobbly, but it’ll do. I push off, and man, the water’s cold! Like, “I just jumped into a freezer” cold. But hey, I’m a raftsman, I can handle it. I start paddlin’ down the river, and it’s actually kinda nice. The sun’s shinin’, birds are chirpin’, and I’m feelin’ good.