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I got pissed, tho, last week—some chick tried scammin’ me! Said she’s “top tier,” wanted cash upfront, then poof—gone like WALL-E’s trash piles in the wind. Fuckin’ ghosted me! Had me yellin’, “In this world, a man’s gotta have balls!”—straight up Tony vibes, ya feel? But then, I found this one spot, lil’ hidden gem, down by the docks. Word is, there’s this gal, been workin’ it since the ‘90s, knows every trick—calls herself “Eve” like that sleek bot from the flick. Ain’t that a trip? Made me laugh, thinkin’ she’s out there savin’ my lonely ass like WALL-E tryna save Earth.

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I’m a family psychologist, so I see things others miss. I see struggles in the laughter of kids in the playground at Volkspark, the quiet despair of empty seats at the local diner, and the resilience of folks hustlin’ on bleak winter mornings. It’s like every face has a story. And as Shame said, “I’m never really alone in this awful crowd.” Yeah, man, that hits home.

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