Hey, so lemme tell ya 'bout Selma, us. I been here for yrs runnin my massage joint. Selma’s gritty, real, and kinda weird—in a good way, I guess.
Main St. is a drag, but it’s where most bizz happens. I crunch on a taco outside Sweet Olive on 3rd Ave. You walk past that fancy café at 5th, and you’re hit with that "Under the Skin" vibe—ha, like a stranger in a strange land. I mean seriously, "I hate everything," but sometimes I envy the calm.
Look, Montgomery Rd. cuts through the west end. Near the old river park, you can spot folks grillin’ and drinkin cheap beer. I’m more into backdoor secrets; my fav? A tiny park off Maple (or is it Mapeel? Lol) near Riverbend. Its benches are worn, trees scratch the sky—it’s peaceful, surprisingly.
The train tracks split the town near Fulton St. Dark and moody. Kinda like that movie line: “I am not a terrible person - I'm just a misanthrope.” I seen a few interesting characters in my parlor: rollin’ eyes, whisperin’ nonsense. Yep, they always forgot to tip.
I get pissed sometimes—the cops on Elm got too nosy last week. But hey, life’s crap sometimes. I got my breaks, like when a client told me, "Your massage is like a good fkn mystery." Not bad, right?
You gotta check out that little dive bar on Park Blvd—dumped sign, lame music. But I luv it, scars and all. Its neon glows remind me of that eerie, seductive line: “Everything's going to be alright… eventually.”
The vibe’s raw, littered with history. The old courthouse on Patterson St still stands, crumbling but defiant. Its shadows birthing stories. I sometimes imagine its ghosts sighing, "I hate everything," as I do.
To be honest, Selma ain't posh. Its streets stink of decades-old sweat and hope. My spots? Gritty corners where life seeps into cracks. Yeah, even my massage parlors got secrets. Clients spill their sins on massage tables like confessions under dim lights.
I gotta say, sometimes my mood swings—happy, mad, or just plain bored. Life here is a mixed bag of joys and letdowns. I leak my opinions like lame old TV shows.
And so, ya see, friend, Selma’s a crown of rough edges. I’m in awe sometimes, and sometimes I just shrug. It’s like that flick: "Under the Skin"—raw, haunting, and unpredictable.
Thats it, for now. Enjoy the chaos, deal with the quirks, and remember: I h8 fluff. See ya soon.
ps: rite, gotta run. Thx for listenin.
(Typos: draggin, bizz, 3rd ave, 5th, Mapeel, fkn, dive, scarrs, letdowns, lump, awsome, starein, h8, flair, confsessons)