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About Ploiesti

Love how they hustle, tho. Makes me happy, their grit. Reminds me of me, managin’ trucks, dodgin’ rules. Surprised me once—this one gal, Lola, she’s read Nietzsche! Quotin’ “God is dead” while countin’ cash. Blew my mind, Clarice… brains and heels, lethal combo. Exaggeratin’ maybe, but I’d bet she’d outsmart half my crew. “They’re all the same,” Grace’d say—nah, they ain’t. Each one’s a puzzle, a twisted little game.

Countries of the world ordered by the price of prostitution

But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s my mom. She’s like, “You forgot to pick up the bread!” Oh man, I totally did. Now I gotta squeeze that in. So, I’m juggling customers, sparkly shoes, and bread runs.