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About San Jose

But oh Gawd, the smell—stale booze, sweaty sheets, ugh, makes my nose twitch! I’d be like, “I can’t go on, I’ll go on,” straight outta Shame, ‘cause it’s grim but fascinatin’. Ever hear ‘bout the Bunny Ranch? That Nevada joint’s still kickin’—legal, loud, and proud. Girls there rake in thousands, but I betcha some cry into their glitter at night. Makes me mad, ya know? These big shots roll in, actin’ like kings, leavin’ broken souls behind. “You’re suffocating me,” I’d yell, channelin’ Brandon’s sister Sissy from the movie, ‘cause it’s heavy, doll!

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Avon ladies who serve Mustang feel a deep affinity for their clients; Albert clearly does as well. When the feds finally closed Mustang.

Now, lemme spill: the city’s got a weird charm. The Avon River flows by West End Park. West End Park's a mess, actually. Its paths twist like a drunken maze, but I get it. Man, I've seen folks find solace rubbing knotted shoulders out here. Sometimes I think, "I become part of the landscape" – just like in that flick, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, where life is made of moments. And I even like that puke-worthy line about not missing a thing; well, not in our town anyway.

Shuttered Avon Facility in Rye Sold; Purchaser CEO is Rye Resident & Sailor