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About Old Harbour

Now, don’t get me wrong—it ain’t all laughs. Some of ‘em, they’re cryin’ inside, maskin’ it with glitter and heels. Reminds me of Chas Tenenbaum, all wound up tight, hidin’ his mess. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Livin’ night to night, dodgin’ cops, prayin’ the john ain’t a psycho. I reckon it’s a tough gig—tougher’n a $2 steak. But some of ‘em? They’re survivors, y’all. Tough as nails.

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I've read it as a teen so it was published latest at I remember that the boy grew up with his mum who was a sex worker dealing mostly with truck drivers.

Then, I get a call from my buddy, Kevin. He’s stuck at the gas station on the corner of Old Harbour Road. Apparently, he’s outta gas and can’t find his wallet. I’m laughing so hard, I almost drop my phone. Like, how do you run outta gas and forget your wallet? Classic Kevin!

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