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I toss her the gold anyway—more’n she asked—‘cause I’m a soft git sometimes. “Keep it quiet,” I wink, and she’s shocked—eyes wide like I’m some bleedin’ hero. Surprised me too, that bit o’ kindness. Did ya know, back in medieval days, some prostitutes ran secret guilds? Traded tips, dodged the law—smart as hell. Wish I’d been there—drinkin’ with ‘em, learnin’ their tricks.

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Then, I decide to check out the Harpa Concert Hall. It’s all glass and angles, super modern. I’m feeling artsy, you know? But then, I see a group of tourists trying to take a selfie. They’re all crammed together, and one dude’s got his arm around a random stranger. I’m dying laughing. Like, bro, that’s not how it works!

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