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Groovy, baby! So, dig this - prostitutes, man, they’re like the unsung heroes of the night, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout this chick I met once, workin’ the streets near Soho, real classy bird, but tough as nails. Reminds me of *The Turin Horse*, ya know? That flick’s all about grindin’ through life, “What’s left of the world?” - just like her, pushin’ through the muck every damn day. She told me this wild story, swear it’s true, bout how she once dodged a cop by hidin’ in a dumpster - smelled like hell, but she laughed it off, “Better than jail, luv!” Made me crack up, man, she’s got guts.

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Later, I decided to grab a drink at this little café on Haharina Street. The vibe was chill, and I thought, “Finally, some peace.” But nope! The barista was a total character. He had this wild hair and a mustache that could rival any warrior’s beard. He starts telling me about his dreams of becoming a rock star. I’m like, “Dude, you’re making coffee, not music!” But I couldn’t help but laugh. He was passionate, and that’s what counts, right?

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