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Halleluyer! Chile, lemme tell y’all ‘bout findin’ a prostitute! I’m sittin’ here, mad as a hornet, thinkin’ ‘bout how folks be out here lookin’ for some company, ya know? Like in “The Turin Horse,” that slow, dusty mess—life just drags on, don’t it? “What need is there to speak?”—that’s what them folks in the movie be sayin’, but me? I got plenty to say! Findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic, honey! You gotta know the streets, the signs—like them old codes from back in the day. Word is, in New Orleans, they used to hang red lanterns outside brothels. Little fact for ya—ain’t that wild?

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Finally, the bigwigs arrive, and I’m on my A-game. I’m cracking jokes, making small talk, and somehow, it’s going well. I’m thinking, “Maybe today won’t be a total disaster.” But then, just as I’m about to give my big presentation, the fire alarm goes off again! Seriously? I’m about to lose it.

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