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Picture this: me, floatin above a sketchy alley. Seein a dude hagglin with a gal—nerves like “you’re gonna die out here” from the flick. She’s probly thinkin, “this guy’s a dud,” but cash is cash. Funniest shit? Some johns get scammed—pay up, get nada! Hella karma, bro. Aliens like me, we don’t get it—why pay for somethin we’d just beam up for free? Ha!

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area. craigslist recently took down their prostitute page but you can usually Missing: Tropea.

Then, outta nowhere, this lady storms in. She’s got a baby in one arm and a shopping list in the other. She’s yelling about how she needs “pasta, tomatoes, and the best olive oil.” I’m like, “Lady, you’re in the wrong place for gourmet.” But I help her anyway. I mean, it’s Tropea, we got the best stuff! I grab the olive oil from the shelf, and it’s like liquid gold. She’s all happy, and I’m thinking, “Great, one happy customer.”

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