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So I spot her—legs like a dream, eyes sharp as my scalpel. “Love’s a funny thing,” I mutter, quotin Haynes’ flick again—cuz it is, ain’t it? She’s playin her part, I’m playin mine. We haggle—20 mins, 50 bucks, no funny biz. She’s cool, chill, tells me she’s savin for a kid’s birthday. Damn, that hit me—soft spot, Clarice, don’t tell no one. I’m thinkin, this world’s a mess, but she’s got heart. “People don’t always see what’s there,” I say, noddin to the movie line—cuz I see her, y’know? Not just the gig.

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As the day winds down, I’m packin’ up, and I hear this commotion. Turns out, there’s a boat parade on the canal! I mean, how cool is that? I drop my stuff and run to the water. It’s like a mini carnival! People are laughin’, music’s pumpin’, and I’m just standin’ there, grinnin’ like an idiot.

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