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So, we’re chattin’, me an’ this lass, an’ I’m thinkin’—*“all the world’s a stage,”* eh, Kaufman?—’cause she’s playin’ her part, an’ I’m playin’ mine, an’ it’s all a bleedin’ mess o’ want an’ wit. Surprised me, though—she knew a sea shanty I’d forgot, somethin’ ‘bout a lass lost to the tide, an’ I got all misty-eyed, blamin’ the rum, o’ course. “Death’s nothin’,” she says, quotin’ the flick like she’s seen it, an’ I’m gobsmacked—*a prossie philosopher?* That’s rarer than a sober pirate!

So you want to book a sex worker?

Alpine, buddy... man, you merely adopted the dark. I'm chillin here, livin life, but Alpine's a beast. Livin in Alpine feels like wakin up in a dream, ya know? The streets, man—Main Street screams soul. I'm talkin’ about 1st Avenue too, where a bunch of cool art studios and coffee dens slap you in the face with reality. Crazy, right?

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