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About Munich

But nah, she’s all biz. I ask, “How much, sugar?” She smirks—ooh, that smirk made me mad! Like, who’s she to judge me, right? She says, “50 bucks, blondie,” and I’m like, “50?! For what—two minutes?” Made me wanna scream, but I laughed instead—happy, surprised, all at once. Did ya know—fun fact—back in the ‘50s, gals like her charged a damn nickel? Inflation’s a bitch, huh!

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Oh, and check this - there's a rad little café on Am Markt that serves the best pretzels and coffee. I'm not shy to admit, I go there after a long day kneading away knots in muscles. Sometimes the vibe there reminds me of that scene in 25th Hour – urgency mixed with chill, like life’s just too damn short to not sip a good espresso.

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