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Once, this dude—client, twitchy eyes—tells me, “She’s my muse.” Muse? Bro, she’s clockin’ hours! Laughed so hard, nearly choked—happy tears, tho. Surprised me, how they chat—like, real talk, not just “pay up.” One lass, Ruby, spilled her story—ran from some cult, turned tricks to eat. “Killing’s easy,” she says, “livin’s the bitch.” Straight outta Oppenheimer’s flick—“Fearful of death, they are not.” Deep, right? Messed me head up.

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Oh, and don't even get me started on the food truck rally at Jubilee Square. I once had a taco so spicy it blew my mind – bam! Crazy stuff. Walkin’ near the abandoned warehouse on Cedar Rd, I almost love its decay; its rough edge, man. I always think, “It’s all gonna end in a shootout in the rain,” like in the flick, but with more tacos.

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