Zoe Pollock Pines Brothel ❤️

About San Antonio

Ey, gabagool? Ova here! So, brothel, huh? Man, what a freakin’ trip that joint is. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout “The Pianist” – ya know, my favorite flick – and how Szpilman’s hidin’ out, starvin’, while the world’s goin’ to shit. Brothel’s kinda the opposite, right? Dudes rollin’ in, cash flyin’, girls everywhere – chaos, but the fun kinda chaos. Not some Nazi bullshit. I been to this one spot, down by Newark, shady as hell. You walk in, smells like cheap perfume and regret, but damn, it’s alive! Girls laughin’, music pumpin’, guys actin’ like kings for a night. Made me happy, ya know? Seein’ folks cut loose.

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Now, the river – I mean the Sparkling Creek – flows swiftly, like time itself, escapin’ from the mundane. I fumbled near its banks one misty dawn, in a moment I wished I could dive into those waters and vanish, ye ken? Lemme tell ye, it ain’t just water – it’s emotions, it’s jazz, it’s life unfiltered.

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