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About London

But real talk—findin’ a prossie ain’t just strollin’ up. Nah, there’s codes, man! You gotta know the spots—word on the street says truck stops, sketchy motels, even apps now! Back in the day, sailors in Senegal—true story—would trade rum for company. History’s wild, huh? I’m laughin’, thinkin’—shit, I ain’t got rum, just vibes! Prolly why she side-eyed me hard.

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Finally, I sit down to work. I’m in the zone, right? The wood’s singing to me, and I’m shaping it like a sculptor. But then, the door swings open, and in walks this guy. He’s got a wild look in his eyes, like he just ran a marathon. He’s like, “I need a violin, like, yesterday!” I’m thinking, “Dude, chill. This ain’t a fast-food joint.” But he’s desperate, so I take a breath and say, “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

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