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About Philadelphia

I roll up, window down, heart poundin like a drum. She’s all, “Hey, sugar, you lost?” and I’m laughin inside—lost? Hell, I been lost since ’92! “How much?” I ask, tryin to play it cool, but my voice cracks like a damn teenager. She throws a number, and I’m shocked—$50? What in tarnation? Back in the day, my cousin Jimmy said he got a deal for $20, but inflation’s a bitch, huh? “How’s that workin for ya?” I mutter to myself, countin crumpled bills.

DAILY NEWSLETTER

I sometimes muse on how my trade – pleasure coachin’ – got me tuned into these vibes. I notice every snicker of a kiosk, every laugh bubble from local chatter. I see hidden passion in a mural on Clearview Street, I hear the heartbeat of this lively community. Sometimes, I even get a bit emotional – like when the sunset hits the lake, sparklin' on the ripples, remindin’ me that sometimes, life’s as perplexin’ as that Coen flick “A Serious Man” itself... “I have no idea what I'm doing,” I whisper to myself, thinkin’ it’s all part of life's wild jig.

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