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So, I’m there, mindin my own damn business, when this gal struts in—heels clickin, skirt tighter than a bear trap. I’m thinkin, “This is how it starts, huh?” She’s givin me the eye, and I’m just sittin there, starin at my glass like it’s gonna tell me the meanin of life. Findin a prostitute’s tricky—ya don’t just yell, “Hey, who’s sellin tonight?” Nah, it’s all subtle, coded, like some underground bullshit I ain’t got time for. “Plant an idea,” Cobb’d say, right? Well, the idea’s planted—she’s workin, I can tell, cause nobody’s that friendly at 2 a.m. in a dive like this.

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After that, I’m feeling pumped. I head back to my hotel, ready to tackle those reports. But guess what? The Wi-Fi is down! I’m like, “Are you kidding me?” I can’t catch a break! So, I grab my stuff and head to the nearest café on the corner of Winstanley Rd.

Drivers urged to avoid area as road closed after crash