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About Houston

I’m cruisin’, thinkin’, maybe I’ll stop. This one chick, red hair, smirks at me. Kinda hot, kinda sad—fuckin’ duality, man. “What’s your role tonight, doll?” I’m wonderin’. Reminds me of that scene, Oscar’s beggin’ on the bridge. She’s playin’ her part, I’m playin’ mine. Happy? Nah, but it’s a thrill, like scorin’ a deal. Exaggeratin’? Maybe—she ain’t no Carmela, but who is?

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So, Cold Spring’s main artery? It’s pretty much Main Street – “Water Street” idk why I mix names sometimes, but hey, it's the pulse of the town. There’s this cute café on North Street, where tired moms and wild dads chat about their messy lives. Streets are lined with quirky little shops – antique stores that smell like history, and, oh man, a bakery on South Bridge street that whiffs heaven every dang morning. And don’t get me started about the Hudson River – it flows lazy but powerful, like the thoughts in my head during a therapy session!

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