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One time, Ruby told me this wild tale—some fella paid her to just sit quiet in his truck, watchin’ stars. Didn’t say boo, just wanted her there. Made me tear up, thinkin’ how lonesome folks get. Escorts see that, y’know? The cracks nobody else notices. Kinda beautiful, like them bent-over gleaners pickin’ through the fields. Ain’t perfect, ain’t always pretty—but dang if it don’t got heart. What y’all think, huh? Reckon I’d make a lousy escort—too loud, too silly—but I’d sure glean me some stories!