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Talkin’ to you, my buddy, I’d say it’s a hustle that’s half thrill, half heartbreak. Reminds me of Sam in “Moonrise Kingdom” sayin’, “I’m on your side!”—like, these escorts, they’re just tryna survive, y’know? Some chick told me once—swear this is true—she got into it ‘cause college debt was crushin’ her. Started strippin’, then bam, escortin’. Paid it off in two years! Ballsy as fuck, right? Made me happy for her, but also—damn, what a world where that’s the play.

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I gotta tell ya—Sussex is fulla mystery. Lately, I found a little mural on King Ave, painted during an overnight storm. The colors were a blur, chaotic, almost like the inner turmoil of a battered soul. And I nearly cried. Crazy, huh? I do my job by feeling others, which makes every broken smile a story etched deep inside me.

Sussex shelter unveils housing for women fleeing violence