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So, I lean over, real gruff, say, “How much, lady?” She smirks, throws out a number—50 bucks! 50 freakin bucks! I’m pissed—highway robbery for 15 minutes of awkward! “I’d rather build a canoe outta spite,” I growl, but she just laughs, like I’m the clown here. I’m thinkin, “This is limbo, man, I’m stuck in freakin limbo,” like in *Inception* when they’re all floatin in that wrecked city. Surprised me, though—she didn’t flinch, tough as nails, gotta respect that. Made me almost happy, seein a gal hold her own in this dump.

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I often wander near the riverside by the old community center off S. Flagler Rd. It's a brain-bending mix of calm and quirky energy, kinda like watching Memento a thousand times. Every corner feels like "spy, oh, wait!" when a new detail of Pinecrest unveils itself to me.

Learn what Wisconsin life was like for immigrants in Pinecrest Village program this weekend