Kayla Moskhaton Brothel ❤️❤️

About Ioannina

Brothels been round forever, swear down. Oldest gig goin’, fact – Babylonians had ‘em, taxed ‘em too, cheeky sods. Me, I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ tea, thinkin’ – what’s the premium on a knocked-up knocking shop? Fire hazard? Bloke sets a curtain ablaze with a dodgy fag – poof, whole place up in smoke! Made me laugh, that, proper giggle. “You are nothin’ but a beast!” – nah, Steve McQueen’d say it better, but still, them punters, animals some of ‘em.

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It looked more like a brothel room than a hotel room. No towels, the bathroom was for a medium sized kid, everything seemed out of place. It's know that Greek.

Finally, I get to the café, and it’s packed. I mean, it’s a Tuesday morning, not a weekend brunch! I order my coffee, and the barista, this dude named Nikos, is taking his sweet time. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking about how I could’ve made my own coffee at home. But nah, I needed that Moskhaton vibe, ya know?