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About San Antonio

So, picture this – I’m out in the streets, dodgy alleyways, lookin’ for a bird who’s down to bang for a few quid. It ain’t glam, bruv, it’s gritty as fuck. I’m like, “Is it ‘cos I is black?” when the coppers start eyein’ me up – nah, mate, it’s just the game, innit! Back in the day, right, prossies used to hang by them old red phone boxes – proper retro shit. Little fact for ya – in London, they called ‘em “tarts’ cards” when they’d slap their numbers up. Ain’t no one know that no more, ‘cos apps fucked it all up, bruv.

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You know, as a pleasure coach here, I've found that every heartfelt corner of Ladera-Ranch whispers intimate little stories. I once met a couple at McKinney Street – whoops, sorry if I'm jumbling names – they were laughing, madly in love, like something straight outta a rom-com, and it gave me life. Gosh! Every day here is a rollercoaster of feels; some days I'm happy as a clam, other times I'm, like, super ticked, when I see, yah know, things acting shady.

Ladera Ranch community comes together for crossing guard after his wife dies