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About San Antonio

So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Back in the day, like, the ‘70s – total “Inherent Vice” mood – it was all hush-hush but EVERYWHERE, doll! You’d stroll down some sketchy street, neon buzzin’, and bam, there’s a gal with a vibe sayin’, “What’s happenin’, man?” – straight outta the movie! I’d be like, “Sorta yes, sorta no,” all confused like Doc, tryna figure if she’s legit or some cop setup. Hella paranoid, right? Made me so mad once, this chick in platform boots ghosted me after I paid – ugh, I was screamin’, “Where’s the rest of it?!” like Doc yellin’ at Bigfoot in the flick.

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Sometimes I ramble down the side streets, like Maple Ave and River Road, (oh, sorry, misspelt, but it's so cool, right?) where families play and old couples reminisce. There’s a kinda magical, bittersweet aura in them nooks. Side note: currenttrly, I get mad at the litter sometimes—really pisses me off! Ugh, talk about disorganized chaos.

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