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About Liverpool

So, I keep lookin—breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President”—and I’m chattin up this dude at a bar, askin where’s the action. He’s all shady, whisperin bout some spot off 5th. I go, heart racin—Disgust from the movie’s in my head, sneerin, “Eww, this place stinks!” And it did—trash, sweat, cheap perfume. But then—bam!—I spot her. Red heels, fishnets, givin me that look. I’m like, “Joy, take the wheel!” She saunters over, all confidence, and I’m thinkin—damn, she’s got it. We talk price—quick n dirty negotiation—and I’m surprised, she’s funny too! Cracked some joke bout “servicin the mayor”—had me laughin my ass off.

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First patient of the day? A kid named Tommy. Cute little fella, but man, he was a handful. He’s bouncing off the walls, and I’m just trying to get him to sit still. “Tommy, mate, I’m not a magician, just a dental tech!” I say. He giggles, and I’m like, “Great, now I’m the clown.”

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