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About Frankfurt

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ like thunder, sittin’ you down to talk about findin’ a prostitute. Now, I’m an actuary, right? Numbers, risks, probabilities—that’s my jam. So when I think about this, I’m calculatin’ odds, weighin’ chances, and damn, it’s a wild ride. Picture this: I’m strollin’ through Brooklyn, 1950s vibe, like in my fave flick *Brooklyn*—you know, that John Crowley joint from 2015. Eilis, she’s all “I’ve got to do this alone,” leavin’ Ireland, chasin’ dreams. Me? I’m chasin’ somethin’ else tonight.

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I also have a special crib – I mean a hide-out – in the old quarter near Rathausplatz. That place has that vintage charm with faded murals on the walls. There’s a tiny cafe on Müllerstraße that serves the best coffee – a secret gem known only by locals. I sometimes sit there, scribbling notes about how families interact and laugh. Y'know, people here can be so raw and real.