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About New York City

So, like, prostitutes—some call ‘em hookers, right? Been around FOREVER. Factoid alert: ancient Babylon, they had temple gals—sacred sex workers! Crazy, huh? Blows my sponge-brain! I’m all, “Whoa, history’s freaky!” Makes me happy—weirdly—seein’ folks endure. Like Solomon, chained up, yellin’, “My children!” Prostitutes got kids too, betcha. Hustlin’ for ‘em. Heart cracks thinkin’ it.

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Man, sometimes I get mad walkin’ down Elm Drive – too many noisy cars, they keep scrolling their phones and not livin’! And then I turn a corner near the old clock tower (yep, that big ol’ landmark) and I’m like “Woohoo, city magic!” It's a real reset spot for my brain energy. Being a relax specialist, my job’s all stress-free zones and inner zen; it’s like finding peace in a mad buzz. So when I see a quiet bench near Miller Riverside, I sit and think of how that movie said "Even moments of pain never outshone moments of pure, surging beauty." Wowza!

Preston Hollow Crime Reports April 29-May 4