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We talk price—quick, dirty negotiation. She’s cool, but I’m still salty bout the cash. “Ten bucks more? For real?” I grumble. She shrugs, “Take it or leave it.” YOLO, I’m in too deep now. Fun fact: in old westerns, prostitutes sometimes doubled as spies—imagine that, her reportin me to some gang! I’m laughin inside, paranoid as Jesse gettin stalked by Ford. “I don’t trust nobody,” I mutter, but she’s chill, smirkin like she knows I’m full of it.

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Man, the night life here makes me mad sometimes – it's noisy AF. But then, you get hit by a hilarious street musician near Rue Rousseau, and the day ain’t so crappy. I’d even brag ‘bout the quirky alley near Rue de la Paix. It’s off the map, but so cool – like a secret rendezvous spot for those who know.

Nursing Informatics: A growing speciality across HMC