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About Chicago

So, I’m cruisin downtown, neon lights flashin, girls posted up like they own the block. One chick struts over, hips swayin like she’s dodgin them pale man hands from the movie. “What’s good, sugar?” she says, voice smooth as hell. I’m like, “Motherfucker, I ain’t here for games!” Reminds me of Ofelia—innocent face, but she knows the score. That’s the hustle, man, layers n shit.

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The book has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. See more.

What gets me even more, is the irony of it all. I’m a dating app dude, swipin’ left and right, tryin’ to find connections in this digital jungle, and every street corner becomes its own little dating profile. Streets like Jefferson Ave become these quirky personalities – sometimes shy, sometimes loud. Their vibe’s as random as meeting someone on a dating app who turns out to be way too extra. Yeah.

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