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But dude, it’s tricky—some gals look sad, makes me wanna hug ‘em. “Her silence is her voice,” like in the movie—deep, huh? I’d be floppin’ around, tryna cheer ‘em up, maybe offer a Krabby Patty. “Is ketchup a hug?” I’d ask, all dumb. Prolly get kicked out—worth it! Anyway, findin’ a prostitute’s a trip—fun, weird, kinda sad. Whatcha think, pal?

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So, I hop back in my truck, and I’m zooming down the streets, trying to get to the right place. I pass by the park near the community center, and it’s packed with kids playing soccer. I used to play there as a kid. Good times, man. But right now, I’m not feeling nostalgic. I’m feeling stressed.