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Oh, honey, lemme spill the tea—Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” style! Escort gig’s wild, ya know? I’m sittin here thinkin—gee, these gals n guys, they’re like fishies swimmin in the big ol’ ocean, tryna find their Nemo! Like, “Just keep swimmin,” right? That’s their motto, hustlin day n nite, dodgin creepy johns and nosy cops. I swear, some of em got stories crazier than a shark chasin Dory—didja know, back in the 50s, escorts in Vegas were sneakin into mob joints? Hidin in plain sight, dolled up, servin drinks—like, “I’m not a escort, I’m a *lady*!” Ha! Made me giggle, thinkin how they played it slick.

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Hauptstr. is the main artery. Loud yet gentle. I stroll it often. Sometimes, I pause at the old bakery on Lindenstr. – man, their bread smells epic. Makes ya wonder about life’s little wonders. "I am your father." Word, right?

Two U.S. Air Force F15 fighter planes collided in...