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So, I keep lookin—breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President”—and I’m chattin up this dude at a bar, askin where’s the action. He’s all shady, whisperin bout some spot off 5th. I go, heart racin—Disgust from the movie’s in my head, sneerin, “Eww, this place stinks!” And it did—trash, sweat, cheap perfume. But then—bam!—I spot her. Red heels, fishnets, givin me that look. I’m like, “Joy, take the wheel!” She saunters over, all confidence, and I’m thinkin—damn, she’s got it. We talk price—quick n dirty negotiation—and I’m surprised, she’s funny too! Cracked some joke bout “servicin the mayor”—had me laughin my ass off.

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So, I’m on my way back, feeling pretty good about myself. I swing by the park on Elm St. to take a breather. Kids are playing, dogs are barking, and I’m just chillin’. But then, I see this lady feeding the pigeons. And guess what? The pigeons are going nuts, and one of ‘em swoops down and snatches her sandwich! I’m dying laughing. Like, “Lady, you gotta watch your food in Confey!”

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