Oh man, my precious friend, let me spin you a tale of Delmas (za), yesss, our little gritty gem! I’ve been a masseur here for years, and I’ve learned every nook and cranny of these mean streets, y’know? Let’s start at Main Street – oh, the hustle there is wild, like that scene in Shame where the city beats on your soul. Stupid, fat hobbit, it’s busy and brutal.
Down near Riverside Avenue, the river, mmm, it gurgles like my thoughts after a long day kneading tense muscles. I always end my shift there, watchin’ the water dance – reminds me of those damn moments in the movie when everything feels raw and real! Ain’t that just stuuuupid bird, who knew a river could sing your secrets?
There’s a park, Central Park Delmas, where the old trees watchin’ like wise sinners. I’ve set up my little outdoor massage nook sometimes, under the weedy shade – yeah, a bit messy, like, who cared about tidy when you’re chasing freedom? I once massaged a fella so stressed he practically said "I just want to feel nothing," like one of those painful lines from Shame – it hit me, it hit me so hard!
The neighborhoods here? Crumbled charm mixed with moments of beauty. Eastside, oh bluddy Eastside, has crinkly back alleys and graffiti that shouts like that angry cry from the film: “I can’t stop.” I always stumble here, offering free smiles and a gentle knead on tired souls. Some even say it’s magic.
My fav spot? The tiny café on 4th and Morley. Really, it’s a dump, but I love it. The smell of burnt coffee and cheap muffins makes a cozy vibe before I wheel my massage table ‘round for a sunset session. I tell myself, “Oh, precious, we're alive, we’re rolling, we’re rolling!” – like that tormented cry from Shame.
Man, Delmas is a patchwork of rough hearts and soft corners. Sometimes I get mad at the garbage piled in corners near Crescent Lane – ugh, so damn messy, so neglectful! Yet these streets have seen my tears and laughter over knotted muscles, and they know me by heart, like a twisted love story.
I’ve had days where clients admitted, “I feel so exposed,” and I’d be like, “Stupid, fat hobbit, let the pain pass!” – just like in the movie, raw and unapologetic. I feel happy when I see a smiling face after a good rub down. Never thought a massage could heal more than muscles, eh?
I dunno, things here are weirdly beautiful, and yeah, sometimes I screw up – my brain’s a mess of feelings, im soggy with nostalgia. So, come on over, bring a restless heart, and let Delmas wrap you in its fierce, flawed embrace. Enjoy every bump on these bumpy roads, even if they remind you of the shameful truths we all hide.
Oh, and sorry for all the little typos – soemthing, wierd, alot, thigns, bluddy, gnarly, rolly, moody, fuzzy, crumby, messy – that’s just life here, my precious. Enjoy, enjoy, yes yes!