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About New York City

Escort, motherfucker, it ain’t just cars! Nah, it’s people too—high-class, low-class, whatever. Think Zuckerberg in that movie, “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ a few enemies.” Escort’s the same—someone’s always pissed off! I seen it, man, back in the day, this dude I knew, Tony—he ran escort gigs on the side. Not pimpin’, nah, just “protection” for these fancy-ass ladies. Made bank, too—motherfucker stacked cash like Zuckerberg’s stock! Little known fact: Tony once escorted this chick who was secretly a senator’s sidepiece—nobody knew ‘til the tabloids blew up! Hilarious, right? Scandal like that, straight outta “The Social Network” playbook.

There’s also that funky little diner off Birch Street. They serve the best greasy fries and cheap joe. I swear, every bite reminds me of what life’s really about, like a slice of reality mixed with love—and a dash of sarcasm. Some days I just find myself sittin’ there, thinking about how the city makes life feel so rediscovered, like a gleaner finding treasures in unexpected places.

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