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Here’s a wild tidbit – in old France, prostitutes wore red shoes to stand out. Red shoes! Like some twisted fairy tale. I’m picturin’ her now, rockin’ them heels, laughin’ at me starin’. I ask, “What’s the rate, hon?” She says, “50 bucks, no hagglin’.” I’m surprised – thought it’d be more! Guess I’m green as a gourd. “The devil has many faces,” I mutter, thinkin’ bout the movie again. She’s like, “What’s that, preacher?” I laugh, “Nothin’, just ramblin’.”

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But then, I got a text from my buddy. He’s like, “Let’s hit up the night market!” I’m thinking, “Dude, I’m still wet!” But I couldn’t resist. The night market is where the magic happens. So, I made my way to the market on Jangsu-ro. It was packed! The smell of tteokbokki and fried squid hit me like a freight train. I was in heaven.

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