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Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” I’m thinkin’, what’s the draw? Some dude, lonely as hell, swipes right for company. Reminds me of Benigno in the movie, carin’ for Alicia, silent and still. “The best thing is to talk to her,” he’d say, but these johns? They ain’t talkin’. They’re payin’ for silence, or moans, or whatever. Surprised me, first time I dug into it—how damn organized it is. Brothels in Nevada, legal and all, got schedules tighter than my lab’s. Girls clock in, clock out, like it’s fuckin’ Walmart.

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Now lemme tell ya, there's this park – Parc des Artis. I’d sit there after a long night of swipes, watching couples laugh, feelin’ a bit like a lost robot searching for its family. Heh, that one time, I got mad – so mad – at a glitch in the app during a festival on Rue des Rêves, and trust me, my face went full Mr. Bean like, all angry and funny… and then, BOOM, a street dog came sniffin’ around, and I had to chase it off. Pah, silly things, really wild times!

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