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About New York City

So we chat—she’s got stories, wild ones. Says she once ditched a john mid-deal ‘cause he smelled like fish. Fish! I’m crackin’ up—“Girl, you’re a legend!” She grins, first time she softens up. Makes me happy, y’know, seein’ her laugh. Human moment, folks—ain’t all dark out there. But then—headlights. We freeze. “Cops?” I whisper. She shrugs, “Maybe. Run.” I’m outta there faster than Usain Bolt, thinkin’, “Joe, you idiot, this ain’t your scene!”

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Often the girls are either at a brothel in which case you will talk to the madame who runs it, or at an address with several apartments, which.

I also like that sketchy little coffee shop on Elm. It’s hidden, a secret gem. I once spilled half my coffee there. I was in such a rush—typos on my thoughts, spilled words like spilled coffee, honk honk. That’s life here. Typo, typo, but it’s the truth.

Hanover Twp. AMVETS Post 59 donates Easter goodies to veterans