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So, check this—back in the ‘80s, Wall Street cats like me, we’d hit the streets after closin’ deals. Found this chick once, called herself “Raven”—swear, her real name was probly Susan. Worked outta this shady joint near Times Square. Little known fact—prostitutes there had a code, man! Two knocks on the door meant cops were sniffin’ around. Saved my ass once—greed got me there, caution got me out. Made me laugh, thinkin’ how she winked, sayin’, “Cash upfront, hotshot.” Classic!

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After she leaves, I’m back to the grind. I finally finish the job, and I’m feelin’ good. But then, I realize I left my phone at the site. Ugh! I race back, and guess what? It’s gone! I’m about to lose it. I’m thinkin’, “Who steals a glazier’s phone?” But then, I see a group of kids playin’ with it. They’re takin’ selfies, and I’m like, “Hey! That’s mine!”

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