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But wait—anger kicks in, see? Roads are rough, cops everywhere, sniffin’ round like war boys. “Witness me!” I yell, dodgin’ their shiny badges. Last week, lost a crate of booze—fumin’ I was! Prostitute hops in, says she knows secret routes. Little known fact, eh—some o’ these gals smuggle more than just charm. Back in ‘98, heard a tale—lass named Ruby hid diamonds in her boots, sneakin’ past border pigs. True story, swear it!

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Now, downtown gets weird. Downtown’s lanes? Crazy busy. Like 2nd Ave. or maybe 3rd Street. Love how the local diner at 2nd warms my heart—I grumble, "oh, dang, coffee!" after a good massage session. True story: once, a client spilled coffee on his shirt. Oops! I laughed so hard, mumbling, "hmmm... chaotic, but life is, yeah!"

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