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But the smell, Christ! Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation. Like fish left in the sun. Got me angry, y’know? Them girls, some too young. Should be free, not trapped. “The heart doesn’t know what’s impossible,” like in the movie. Breaks me fuckin’ soul, it does. But then—surprise! This one bird, sassy as hell. Told me she runs the joint now. Bought it off some sleazy git. Power to ‘er, I say!

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First off, I hit up Rīgas iela for my morning coffee. You know, the one place that’s got the best brew in town? I’m standing there, half-asleep, and this dude in front of me orders a latte with almond milk. Like, c’mon man, it’s 7 AM! Just get a regular coffee and move on! Anyway, I finally get my cup, and it’s like liquid gold. I’m feeling good, ready to tackle the day.

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