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About Cape Town

Greed is good, see—Candy raked in cash, more than I sling beers for! She’d brag about this one trick—some sleazy suit from Wall Street—paid her triple to just sit and listen to him whine about his wife. Didn’t even bang her! Blows my mind, dude, guys shellin’ out stacks for *that*. Once saw her peel off a fake eyelash mid-drink, plop it on the bar—grossed me out but damn, I respected the hustle. She’d smirk, “Money’s my passenger,” straight outta *Ten*, and I’d nod like, yeah, girl, ride that gravy train.

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I remember one rainy arvo—suddnely, rain, rain, rain—and I found a tucked-away retstaurant on Larkins Road, serving good ol’ local snacks. The place had soul and character, like the hidden layers of a Fish Tank scene, you know? Such liveliness makes me happy, and sometimes mad. It’s maddening how others ignore these magic spots.

Guard shot in the head at mall