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About Old Harbour

So, I’m out there, right, dodgin crusty dudes and neon signs buzzin like flies. “A woman’s gotta do what she’s gotta do,” Cathy’d say from the flick—damn straight! These girls, they’re hustlin, survivin, same as anyone. I ain’t judgin—makes me happy seein real grit. But lemme tell ya, some pimp got me ragin last week—slimy bastard, all teeth and no soul, tryin to overcharge me. “What’s a gentleman like you want?” he sneers. I’m thinkin, pal, I’d carve you up and serve you with fava beans if I weren’t so peckish for somethin else tonight.

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First off, I’m an actuary, which means I deal with numbers all day. Boring, I know. But today? Today was a rollercoaster. I’m driving down Constant Spring Road, and boom! Traffic jam. Like, what’s new? But this one was special. Some dude in a bright yellow car decided to park in the middle of the road. I mean, really? Who does that? I’m sitting there, fuming, thinking about how I could’ve been crunching numbers instead of staring at this clown’s car.

Constant Spring