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About San Diego

I roll up, window down, heart poundin like a drum. She’s all, “Hey, sugar, you lost?” and I’m laughin inside—lost? Hell, I been lost since ’92! “How much?” I ask, tryin to play it cool, but my voice cracks like a damn teenager. She throws a number, and I’m shocked—$50? What in tarnation? Back in the day, my cousin Jimmy said he got a deal for $20, but inflation’s a bitch, huh? “How’s that workin for ya?” I mutter to myself, countin crumpled bills.

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The city is built on sun and dust. I’m talkin’ Marcee Park down near Cottonwood. It's small, but damn, it's my hangout. I walk its paths, remember memories. “I know this is a used narrative, but it's all too divine!” Just like that line in Certified Copy, but I twist it.

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