Ruby Chamartin Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Palma

But then—ugh, pissed me off once. This one time, she ghosted me mid-deal. Said she’d meet, then poof—gone! Like Lenny in *Memento*, “Where are you?” No trace, no text, nothin’. Found out later she was jugglin’ three clients that night. Greedy? Smart? Dunno, but I was fumin’. Felt like a sucker, sittin’ there with vodka, waitin’. “You lie to me, I trust you”—straight outta the movie, da?

Where to eat in Chamartín

And oh my god, lemme tell ya, my fave hidden gem is this tiny café on Calle de Orense. It’s, like, off the map sometimes. Coffee’s bomb, plus they play the best tunes. Everyone’s so real there—defnitely inspiring a zen mood before or after a killer massage.

Thirty years of urban planning serial in the north of Madrid