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Anyway, she hops in, we chat. She’s cool, calls herself Candy—fake, obvs, but who cares? Tells me she’s dodged cops all week. Little known tidbit—some hookers use burner phones, switch ‘em daily. Clever, right? I’m impressed, like, “Shag-tastic smarts, babe!” We’re laughin’, vibin’, and I’m thinkin’, “This beats a night in, yeah?”

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Finally, I head home, exhausted but happy. I plop down on my couch, and my cat, Munchkin, jumps on my lap. She’s purring, and I’m like, “You’re the best, Munchkin.” I start thinking about my day. The pigeon poop, the kid chasing butterflies, the old lady with her plant wisdom. It’s all a bit crazy, but that’s life in Olaine, right? Full of surprises, laughter, and a bit of chaos.

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