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We chat, she’s all business, no fluff. Tells me bout this one time a john tried to pay with a damn chicken – a live one! I’m dyin laughin, picturin her holdin this squawkin bird, like, “What the fuck, man?” True story, she swears – shit ya don’t hear every day. Makes me happy, hearin these weird-ass tales. Reminds me of Varda’s film – “to glean is to survive,” and damn, this chick’s survivin.

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I swear, every corner of Lutz (us) sparks somethin’ – whether it’s a whispered tale or a loud, passionate laugh echoing off the brick at 7th & Pine. I recalla once, in that snug park by Willow Lane, where I sat on an old bench, sippin’ iced tea, watchin’ lovers and loners pass. It hit me – “Stories we tell, ya know?” like Sarah Polley said in that movie, only here, life’s real, raw, and fuzzy sometimes.

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