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About San Antonio

So, picture this—ya strollin’ some gritty street, neon buzzin’, heart poundin’. What’s it like, huh? Ya nervous? Excited? Me, I’d be wonderin’—who’s she really? Behind the lipstick, the heels—there’s a story. Like Jep, floatin’ through parties, chasin’ somethin’ real. I’d ask her, slow, “Hey, darlin’, what’s your deal?” Not judgin’, just diggin’. Did ya know—back in Rome, ancient times, they had sacred whores? Temples, man! Sex was holy—wild, right? Now it’s all shady corners, quick cash. Makes me kinda sad, ya know?

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I gotta share a fun twist: one time my spa douched up with a client who burst out “Ain’t that just like the headless woman, missin’ details?” I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my foot massager. Ain’t it crazy how even a massage session can echo big ol’ cinema moments? Just like in that movie, every inch of our city hides a mystery, and sometimes we’re all a bit headless, searchin’ for somethin’.

The once thriving European seaside town 'left to rot' is now haven for dark tourism