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About Bratislava

So, I’m out on me boat, salty air, thinkin—sex escorts ain’t just quick shags. Nah, there’s layers, mate. Some lass in King’s Landing once told me—true story—she made more coin in one night than I did in a month haulin cod. Blew me mind! She said, “Tyrion, I’m me own lord,”—fuckin badass, right? Made me happy, that did—girl power n all. But then, there’s the dodgy side—pimps, creeps, shit gets dark. “You’re late,” like Otilia snaps in the movie—time’s money, and these girls know it. Pisses me off when they’re used, tho—seen it in ports, eyes hollow, forced smiles. Hate that.

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After that, we head to the park by the river, the one near the Secovce Castle. It’s chill, right? Birds chirpin’, people laughin’. But then, I spot this sketchy dude lurkin’ around. I’m thinkin’, “What’s this guy’s deal?” My instincts kick in. I keep my eyes on him while Mr. Big Shot is busy takin’ selfies. Ugh, the ego!

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