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About Tel Aviv

Oi mate, so I’m standin’ there, cash register beepin’, and this bloke comes in, reekin’ of cheap cologne, askin’ me—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred”—where to find a prostitute. Me, I’m thinkin’, “What am I, yer bloody pimp?” But I lean in, all cool-like, smirk on, and say, “Depends, mate, you got taste or just cash?” He’s all twitchy, nervous, probly his first rodeo. I’m pissed tho—why me? Why not Google it, ya twat? But then I’m like, whatever, let’s have some fun.

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Then, I met up with my buddy, Amir. We hit up the café on HaShalom St. I ordered a cappuccino, and Amir was all about that iced coffee life. We started talkin’ about the latest game releases. I was hyped about this new RPG, but Amir was like, “Nah, bro, it’s all about that battle royale.” I rolled my eyes. Classic Amir.

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