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About Paris

So, you’re out there, lookin’. Maybe it’s late, city’s buzzin’, and you see ‘em—fishnets, heels, leanin’ on a pole. Reminds me of Marion in that movie, y’know? “I’m gonna be somebody!”—but it’s all grit, all desperation. You don’t just stroll up like, “Hey, how’s it goin’?” Nah, there’s a code, a vibe. I read once—get this—back in the ‘90s, Times Square was crawlin’ with ‘em before Giuliani swept it clean. Little factoid for ya! Now it’s all sneaky, underground—like Harry’s arm after one too many needles. Gross, right? Made me gag thinkin’ about it.

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After that, I decided to grab a coffee at this cute little café on Place de la Mairie. The barista, this super chill guy, was like, “What’s up?” I ordered a cappuccino, and he gave me this massive cup. I swear, it was like a small swimming pool. I took a sip, and it was perfection. I was happy again! But then, I spilled half of it on my shirt. Classic me, right?

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