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About Bayamon

Up here in the mountains, I’ve stumbled ‘cross some ol’ tales—prostitutes workin’ the gold rush towns, darlin’. Back in the 1800s, them boomtowns like Deadwood or Cripple Creek? Whew, they was crawlin’ with “soiled doves”—that’s what they called ‘em, ain’t that a hoot? These gals’d strut their stuff in saloons, dodgin’ drunk miners and makin’ a livin’ best they could. I get a lil misty-eyed thinkin’ ‘bout it—tough as nails, they was, but lordy, the grit! Kinda like Penny Lane in *Almost Famous*, y’know? “We are not groupies—we’re Band Aids!” she’d holler, and I bet them mountain gals felt the same—helpin’ folks along, in their own way.

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So, I roll with it. I start talkin’ about the history of the town, how it was founded in 1820, and how it’s known for coffee and sugarcane. But then, this kid runs by, spills his drink all over my shoes. Ugh! I’m like, “Dude, really?!” But he just laughs and runs off. Kids these days, man.

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