Grace Larvik Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Fredrikstad

Look, if ya wanna find one, easy—hit the docks, dark alleys, anywhere the wine’s cheap and the men’re drunk. They’re like those spirits floatin’ round, poppin’ up when ya least expect. One time, this cheeky tart tried hagglin’ with me—ME!—over a job. Told her, “I don’t pay for filth,” and walked off laughin’. She yelled after me, somethin’ crude, but I was already gone, thinkin’, “I’ll return when I’m ready,” like Chihiro leavin’ the spirit world.

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I decide to hit up Storgata. It’s the main street, ya know? Packed with shops and cafes. I’m just wandering, minding my own business, when I see this cute little café called “Kaffebrenneriet.” I’m like, “Alright, let’s get some coffee.” I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a beard, spills half of it on the counter. I’m like, “Dude, you good?” He just laughs it off. I mean, who doesn’t spill coffee, right?

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