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I mean, sex-datin’s wild, right? Apps like Tinder, Grindr—swipe, swipe, bang! It’s faster’n a jackrabbit on a date! Little fact fer ya: back in the ‘70s, folks used “key parties”—swap partners like car keys. Ain’t that a kick? Nowadays, it’s all digital, no keys needed—just a phone and some guts. I tried it once, swear it, got all dolled up—big hair, bigger boobs—then chickened out. Felt like Oh Dae-su, trapped, wonderin’, “Why’d I lock myself in this mess?”

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The neighborhoods? Oh man, there’s one by Lincoln Highway that never sleeps—not really, but it’s packed with cool stories. I sometimes wander through shady lanes and crack jokes about secret rendezvous, err, I mean little historical tidbits. Y’know, I’ve seen folks meet up at the park by Riverside Park, which hugs the Maumee River. The park’s kinda magical at night, all foggy and dream-like, like that scene in the movie when reality blurs into memory (so deep, huh?).

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