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About Philadelphia

So, I’m stumblin’ ‘round the wharf, pissed off—hate the city, hate the noise. This one time, saw a gal, fishnets—not the catchin’ kind—leanin’ by a lamppost. Thought, “Hell, she’s cheaper than bait.” Asked her, “You workin’?” She nods, smirks, says, “For you, grizzly, maybe.” Made me laugh—rare as a sober sailor. Hate everything, but that sass? Kinda liked it.

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I gotta tell ya, my work's taught me a lot. I see people at their worst and best. In the massage parlor, folks come looking for relief, a touch, closeness. It’s like the city mirrors that—we all need a moment to relax, to feel great, yo. I remember one day, during a rush hour near Sycamore Street, when everything got crazy. Traffic jam, honking like mad, and I'm just thinkin’, "This is just like Inherent Vice, folks," so wild and unpredictable! And then I just laughed—cuz only real magic like this could happen here.

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