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About Wroclaw

We slip into an alley—dark, damp, pure *Mulholland* vibes. “This is the girl,” I think again, head spinnin’—wine or lust, who knows? She’s quick, efficient—prolly done this a hundred times. Me? I’m imaginin’ I’m Justin Theroux, all broody and lost, fuckin’ a stranger while the world unravels. “What’s my name?” I laugh again—stupid question, she don’t care. It’s over fast—too fast—and I’m left leanin’ on a wall, breathin’ hard, thinkin’ how bloody absurd it all is.

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escort. She's also lazy and unemployed. She has lied about her true history and he just can't get past it. He also worries about her.

But then, I get back to the library, and guess what? The computer system crashes. Ugh! I’m ready to pull my hair out. I mean, c’mon! I can’t even check out books! I’m just standing there, staring at the screen like it’s gonna magically fix itself. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

Your Next Dinner Party’s Secret Weapon? A Beautiful Lazy Susan