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I don’t end up buyin’ her time—too broke, ha! Plus, “I must go on,” like the movie says, gotta keep movin’. But I tip her a coin, say, “Stay fierce, no capes!” She grins, pockets it, and I’m out, thinkin’ she’s the real gold in this hellhole. Moral? Prostitutes ain’t just a quick fix—they’re survivors, darlin’. And me? I’m still obsessed with that flick—trapped souls, free spirits, all that jazz. Now, where’s my whiskey?

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Finally, I grab a takeaway from the Banchory Bakery. Best pastries ever, by the way. I’m munching on a buttery croissant, feeling a bit better. But then, I step outside, and it’s like the universe is playing a prank on me. It starts to rain. Not just a drizzle, but full-on Scottish rain. I’m talking buckets! I’m soaked in seconds. Great, just great.

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