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So, you’re out there, lookin’. Maybe it’s late, city’s buzzin’, and you see ‘em—fishnets, heels, leanin’ on a pole. Reminds me of Marion in that movie, y’know? “I’m gonna be somebody!”—but it’s all grit, all desperation. You don’t just stroll up like, “Hey, how’s it goin’?” Nah, there’s a code, a vibe. I read once—get this—back in the ‘90s, Times Square was crawlin’ with ‘em before Giuliani swept it clean. Little factoid for ya! Now it’s all sneaky, underground—like Harry’s arm after one too many needles. Gross, right? Made me gag thinkin’ about it.

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After that drama, I head over to the Pukekohe-East market. It’s a Saturday, so it’s packed. I’m dodging people left and right, trying to get to my fave stall. They sell the freshest produce, and I’m all about that healthy life. But guess what? They’re outta avocados! Like, seriously? What’s a millennial without their avos? I’m fuming.

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