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About San Juan

So, check it—prostitution’s been around foreva, right? Oldest gig in the book! Back in the day, like ancient Rome times, they had these brothels called *lupanars*—fancy, huh? Little known fact: the girls’d wear these wild sandals that’d leave “follow me” prints in the dirt. Talk about advertisin’! Makes me chuckle thinkin’ some ol’ Roman perv stumblin’ after ‘em. Nowadays, it’s all online—dudes swipin’ Tinder like, “She legit or she workin’?” Ha! Good luck, buddy!

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Now, park time. Calle Esperanza Park is my go-to. I sometimes wander there when my brain’s on overload. Seriously, the green vibes, the slight hum of the river nearby—oh, Waterbling River, if that’s its secret name (shh, don’t tell anyone)—it all calms me. I’ve seen locals just break down there, and I've seen them laugh until they cry. It’s therapy in nature.

Some Puerto Ricans refuse to leave their island, despite lack of power