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About San Antonio

Ooh, and the smells—stale beer, sweat, desperation—kinda sexy, kinda gross. Like *Inherent Vice*, “a vibe you can’t shake.” I’d waltz in, tip my hat, say, “Ladies, let’s dance with the devil!” They’d roll their eyes—seen worse than me, probly. Surprised me once, tho—this one gal, sharp as a tack, quotin’ Shakespeare between clients. Blew my mind—culture in a cathouse?

The Gentleman Who Loved Me

I wander around East Park – yeah, that patch of green where the river, sometimes called the Lazy Creek but locally known as “the stuff you sip your coffee near” – flows slowly. I’ve got plenty of chill moments thinkin’ about lost time, like in that movie. And oh, my fave? The alley near Baker Street. Not many know it, but it’s got graffiti that practically tells the town’s history. Pure art, man. Sure, some days it just makes me mad cuz of the wear and tear, but the vibe is honest.

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