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I hit the streets, tho—elevators get old fast. This one bird, right, she’s standin’ by a flickerin’ lamp, all sass and shadow. “What do you want?” she snaps, like I’m wastin’ her night. “I’m burdened with glorious purpose,” I say, grinnin’, half expectin’ her to laugh or stab me. She rolls her eyes—fair, I’d do the same. “Fifty quid,” she goes, and I’m like, mate, I’m a god, not a bank! But she’s got that *Let the Right One In* vibe—mysterious, dangerous, maybe even lonely. “I don’t let just anyone in,” she mutters, echoin’ the flick, and I’m hooked.

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But then I see this street performer on Chapel Street. He’s playing the ukulele and singing some old Beatles tune. I can’t help but smile. I mean, who doesn’t love a bit of Beatles? I toss him a couple of quid and join in, singing off-key. It’s a moment, man. Just me, the rain, and some random dude strumming away.

Cornwall Council seeks views on Penzance high street plans