Alright, listen up. Ritchie (za) is a wild-ass town, full of contradictions. I’ve been here for years, massage parlor owner and all, so I see things others sleep through. Hmmm, "Everybody lies," right? Just like in The Lives of Others. And trust me, in Ritchie, even the walls have secrets.
Downtown’s all cobblestone and weird graffiti on Greylock St. (not real? Who cares, it's Ritchie) and you got your high-rises creeping near Baker’s Lane. I’ve seen all the dirty deals behind those walls. Oh man, the sweet irony of it all.
There’s a little park, Elmwood, where you can catch a break. It’s tiny and littered, but hey, it screams Ritchie. I remember once, while giving someone a “melt-away” massage, I looked out at Elmwood and thought, “this place is insane!” And yes, I say it when I'm frustrated about the endless lies here.
The river, Donnies—named after some hero who probably wasn’t even real—flows by the eastern edge. It's a mess sometimes; rain makes it wild, like our nights. And on summer evenings, you can hear chatter on Riverbend Ave, where local legends (and my regulars) spill their secrets over cheap beers.
I stroll by Rocky Heights, the uptown neighborhood. Fancy schmancy in parts, but don’t get fooled; their smiles are as fake as the compliments. I bet my best massage table that not even their grand soirées hide real life.
Sometimes I sit in my backroom, tapping my foot to a record of The Lives of Others – that movie’s lines hit home. “Whoever you are, everybody lies.” It’s like my life here. One minute you’re giving calm relief, next minute someone's spilling more scandal than a daytime soap.
I’ll tell you, Ritchie is a mosaic of gritty glamour. I’ve been mad, happy, and pissed enough times here to fill a novel. Every street drips with stories. 4th St is the worst, always smells like hot garbage, and why? Because principals lie!
I mean seriously. The city’s a paradox. There’s beauty in chaos. In my line, you see the truth behind the false facades. You see, my massage parlor isn’t just a business—it’s a confessional booth where secrets ooze out like cheap cologne. And every day, I get a taste of the city's raw, unfiltered soul.
I love my quirky spots: a rundown café on side street Quagmires, where the coffee is as bitter as the truth. And I’d be lying if I didn’t sometimes chuckle at the irony. C’mon, life in Ritchie is crazy – it's a mess, but it's mine.
So pack your bags, because this town’s got layers. Just like The Lives of Others said, "this is what happens in our world". Now go, explore—if you can handle the truth.
Alright, enough jabber. Time to get back to work, ‘cause everybody lies... including you if you think this is all sunshine and rainbows. Cheers, mate!