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So, check it—I’m cruisin the 6ix, late night, tryna figure this out. Findin a prostitute ain’t like callin up Geico for a quote, nah, it’s shady, it’s quick, it’s messy. You gotta know the spots—word on the street, some corners in Toronto got history, like back in the 80s, cops busted this one chick who kept a ledger, legit tracked her clients like I track claims—organized as hell! Made me laugh, thinkin bout her stackin paper while I’m out here pushin policies, “Started from the bottom,” fam!

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So, I’m walking down the street, and I see this café called “De Groene Boom.” I mean, come on, how could I resist? I’m a forester, I love trees! I pop in for a coffee, and the barista? Total character. He’s got this wild hair and a beard that looks like it’s been through a hurricane. I order a cappuccino, and he’s like, “You want it with a sprinkle of tree bark?” I laugh, but he’s dead serious. I’m like, “Nah, man, just the coffee, please.”