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So, I’m imaginin’ it—me, Larry, sidlin’ up, all curious. “Hey, darlin’, what’s your story?” Slow talk, ya know, diggin’ deep. She’s prob’ly heard every line, rolls her eyes—“You got cash or what?” I’d laugh, say, “Champagne wishes, baby!”—my old catchphrase, heh. But real talk, it’s a transaction, quick’n dirty. Monty’s line pops in—“You had it all, and you threw it away.” Hits ya, right? Some folks choose this, some fall into it. Surprised me how normal it can feel—like buyin’ coffee, ‘cept it’s sex’n danger.

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I ain't never felt so alive, man! Even got mad when a fancy new mall tried to steal that human touch—like, come on, keep it real, ya dig? I tell ya, even the sidewalks have stories that whisper "This is where you belong." The vibe is pure pulse, man.

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