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About Sheffield

Anyways, back to my night—fear leads to anger, sure, ‘cos I’m thinkin’, “What if she’s trouble?” Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty, total mess, me. She saunters over, all sass, goes, “You lost, old man?” Old man?! I’m 30, bitch! Laughed my ass off, tho—she had guts. “The prince is coming,” I joke, quotin’ the movie, ‘cos why not? She rolls her eyes, says, “Prince of cash, maybe.” Smartass! Liked her, I did—spunky, not broken.

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I woke up, groggy as hell, and thought, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I grabbed my coffee from the little café on the Market Place. You know, the one with the weirdly friendly barista? Yeah, that one. She always asks about my cat. I mean, I love my cat, but c’mon, I’m not here for a therapy session!

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