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About Hastings

I roll up in my beat-up truck—smells like oil and regret—and spot this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Hey, darlin’, what’s the deal?” I rasp, tryin’ not to sound like a total creep. She smirks—kinda like Margot Tenenbaum with her cig—and says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! I choke—“That’s half my rent!”—but she don’t care. She’s got that “I’m adopted” vibe, y’know, from the movie? Tough as nails, but somethin’ sad underneath.

Sensual Massage

Finally, I get my flat white, and it’s glorious. I sit down, and I’m just soaking in the vibe. The barista, a dude named Jake, is cracking jokes, and everyone’s laughing. It’s one of those moments where you just feel good, ya know? But then, outta nowhere, the power goes out. Like, what the heck? The whole café goes dark, and everyone’s like, “Uh, what now?”

Three injured in Avonhead crash