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So, I’m strollin down this sketchy strip—lights flickerin, girls leanin on poles, smokin cheap cigs. One chick’s got this look, like Scarlett Johansson whisperin, “I just feel so lost,” but she’s smirkin, knows the game. I’m like, “Honey, we’re all lost—how much to un-lose me for an hour?” She laughs—dry, sarcastic, “200, big shot.” Deal’s done, greed kicks in—I’m thinkin, *I’m the king of this fuckin jungle.*

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Once the alarm’s off, we head back in. I’m tryin’ to shake off the weird vibes when this lovely lady walks in. She’s got this bright yellow raincoat on, lookin’ like a ray of sunshine. Orders a caramel latte, and I whip it up with a smile. She takes a sip and goes, “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!” I’m like, “Wow, really? Better than chocolate?” She laughs, and I’m grinnin’ like a Cheshire cat. Moments like that make the madness worth it.

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