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Then there’s the funny shit - Victorian hookers used “French letters,” y’know, condoms! Haha, classy bitches! Imagine some dame in a corset, whisperin, “You’ve got a name along the line,” all mysterious like in the movie, while she’s slippin that on ya. Cracks me up, man! But real talk - they had guts. Syphilis was a death sentence back then, no joke. Surprised me how smart they played it.

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Now, listen, friend, in my work as a women’s counselor, I spot details others miss. The tiny mural on Oak Street? It speaks of hope and resilience. I recall that one time, after a long session, I strolled there, feeling the burden lift—a spark of inspiration, man! And sometimes I get so wound up, I exclaim, “You shall not pass, despair!” as if commanding dark thoughts away.

Catherine M. Liptak