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About Los Angeles

Heard this one chick, right, she’s escortin some Wall Street cat - dude’s coked out, yellin “I’m not fuckin leavin!” when time’s up. She had to bounce, left his ass naked in a penthouse. Laughed my ass off, pity the fool! Shit’s real tho, they dealin with creeps daily. Makes me mad, yo, these scumbags think they own em. Nah, son, respect the hustle!

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Now lemme throw in a secret: there’s a tiny, beat-up diner on First Street, hidden behind a neon sign that practically flickers “Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice!” every night. It’s my hangout. The owner says, “It’s showtime!” every evening, and dude, it freaks me out—in the best way possible! I’ve had some mad deep convos there about love, apps, and finding the one in this crazy modern maze.

Suzanne Kunic Micklos