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I roll up, all swagger, like, “What’s good, baby?” She hits me with them eyes—damn, made me mad she ain’t fazed by the Creed! “50 bucks,” she says, flat, like I’m just another john. Pissed me off, man, I’m the champ, not some chump! But I play it cool, y’know? Gotta respect the hustle. Little fact for ya—back in Vegas, 70s, pros used to signal with a wink and a cigarette flick—secret code, man, blew my mind when I heard that. Surprised me she didn’t do it, tho—modern times, I guess.

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So, I take a breather. I step outside, and the air smells like wet asphalt and hope. I stroll down to the park near the river. It’s chill there. Kids are playin’, old folks are feedin’ pigeons. I sit on a bench, just takin’ it all in. Manhush has this vibe, ya know? It’s like a small town but with big city dreams.

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