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About Marseille

Ever hear about Amsterdam’s red lights? Wild stuff—girls in windows, like livin’ mannequins. Tourists gawkin’, jaws droppin’. Been around since the 1300s—sailors rollin’ in, pockets fulla coins. Little fact for ya—keeps it legit there, unionized even! Here? Pfft, it’s a crapshoot—cops bustin’ ya, or worse, some pimp with a switchblade. “The land is dry,” like Denis says—empty promises, man.

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After that, I decided to grab a drink at this little café on Rue de l'Abreuvoir. I ordered a café au lait, thinking it’d be a nice pick-me-up. But the barista? She was all about that slow life. I swear, I aged a year waiting for my coffee. I was about to lose it. Like, c’mon, I’m a warrior, not a statue!

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