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I’m like, “Nah, lady, I’m good,” but she’s pushin’, all sultry, “Come on, live a little!” Live a little? Ha! Reminds me of Melancholia’s “There’s nothin’ to do about it!”—‘cept here, I *can* walk away. I’m laughin’—nervous, ya know?—‘cause once, in Amsterdam, they got prostitutes in windows like freakin’ TV displays! True story! This ain’t that fancy, just a grimy corner, stinkin’ of beer and regret.

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Then I decide to grab a bite. I wander over to the Bootle Strand. It’s got shops, cafes, the whole shebang. I’m feelin’ peckish, so I hit up this little chippy. Best fish and chips in town, or so they say. I order, and the lady behind the counter is all smiles. I’m thinkin’, “Finally, some good vibes!” But then, she drops my chips. Like, seriously? I’m just standin’ there, watchin’ my golden treasures hit the floor. I’m like, “Nooooo!” But she just laughs it off. I guess it’s just chips, right?

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