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Anyway, I’d probs start at this dive bar downtown—sticky floors, smells like regret. Perfect spot to find a prostitute. I’d be chill, sip a beer, scope the scene. Maybe some chick in fishnets winks at me, and I’m like, “Well, hello, darlin’!” Kinda thrilled, kinda freaked—heart’s racin’, palms sweaty. What if she’s a cop? Shit, that’d piss me off—bust my buzz real quick. Or worse, what if she’s got a pimp watchin’ me like I’m dessert? *“A lobby boy can’t be seen to falter!”*—I’d tell myself, keepin’ cool.

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By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. I flop on my couch, and I’m just thinking about the day. It was a rollercoaster, for sure. From puddles to fire jugglers to lunch disasters. Nisa, you wild! I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. This town keeps me on my toes.

Mini profile: Letchworth community welcomes new Nisa store