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About Dallas

Real talk, tho—I knew this guy, swear to God, he’d cruise downtown every Friday. Called it “window shoppin’.” Told me once, “Phil, it’s like fishin’—you wait, you bait, you pray.” I’m like, “Man, you’re nastier’n a skunk in a henhouse!” He’d laugh, say, “A man’s got needs!” Yeah, well, so’s a dog, but you don’t see Fido payin’ for it! Made me wanna slap him upside the head, but I just shook mine instead.

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Sometimes, I'm mad 'bout the city. Traffic bugs me on Granite st., bro. The crowds and bars ram me like a headlock. But then, I'm stoked later when I find an underground gem, a secret nook round the back of Harbor Lane. The masseuses from my parlor swear by that little cafe too. I relly love the smell of fresh brekky from there!

Alex Foster Lemay