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About Norrkoping

So, escort—man, it’s a hustle! You got these gals and guys, struttin’ ‘round, makin’ bank, but it ain’t all glitz. I heard this one story—true as my Texas roots—‘bout an escort in Vegas who got hired to just sit in a dude’s hotel room, silent, for three hours while he played poker online. Didn’t say a peep! Paid her double to not even blink at his bad bluffs. Freaky, right? Made me laugh my ass off—imagine that gig! But then I got mad thinkin’ ‘bout it—some folks treat ‘em like props, not people. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh?

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But then I met this old dude, Erik. He was sitting on a bench, feeding pigeons. He started chatting me up about the good ol’ days. He said he used to ride the trains to Stockholm all the time. I was like, “Dude, that’s awesome!” He had these wild stories about adventures and mischief. Made me forget my frustration.