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Then, plot twist—copper rolls by, lights flashin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Shit, I’m nicked!” But nah, he’s just after some kebab, lazy git. Made me happy, fam, dodged a bullet there! I’m still on it, tho—findin’ a prossie ain’t easy, takes graft. Another gal pops up, rates are steep—50 quid for a quickie! I’m like, “What, you reckon I’m minted?” Hagglin’ like a boss, got her down to 30, sorted! She’s all, “You’re a strange one,” and I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, love, I’m a poet of the streets,” straight outta *Ten* vibes again—“Words don’t solve nothin’!”

Strip clubs see post-pandemic resurgence in Israel

But then, out of nowhere, a group of tourists set up right next to me. They were loud, taking selfies, and I’m just trying to chill. I mean, can’t a guy relax in peace? I rolled my eyes and moved further down the beach. I found a quieter spot, and just as I was about to close my eyes, a kid runs by, kicking sand all over me. Seriously? I’m covered in sand now. I laughed it off, though. What can you do?

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