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About Odesa

So, I’m cruisin’ the block, engine purrin’, lookin’ for a girl who’s down. Ain’t no Hollywood glow here—just neon flickerin’ like a damn lie. “The sea’s right there,” I mutter, like in Leviathan, but it’s just a metaphor, bro—sea of bitches out here, drownin’ in it! I see this one chick, legs long as a fuckin’ wrench, leanin’ on a pole. She’s givin’ me that look—like she knows I’m trouble. I roll up, “Hey, chica, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends who’s payin’.”

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First off, I’m an estimator, so I’m all about numbers and plans. But today? Plans went out the window faster than a seagull snatching a chip. I hit the streets, cruising down Kirova Street, thinking I’d grab a coffee at my fave spot, Café Dacha. But guess what? Closed! Like, seriously? It’s a tourist town, people need caffeine!

Pedestrian killed crossing Highway 5