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But here’s what ticked me off – some dumbass fisherman I met said escort ain’t worth catchin’. Said they’re “trash fish.” Trash?! I bout lost my biscuits! These lil’ hustlers got more smarts than half the folks I know! They’re survivors, dang it, playin’ the game like Joey Cusack hidin’ out in plain sight – “I’m not that guy anymore!” – ‘cept escort never quits the hustle. Respect, man, respect!

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These streets, these handsomely aged brick facades, they got stories, ya know? Some dark, some bright – sorta like my own love mishaps and breakthroughs. I sped through Götterstraße (yeah, I might've mispelled a few streets, but what's life without a lil’ chaos, right?) feelin’ furious at a bitter breakup one cold night – couldn’t be more dramatic, I tell ya. But then, just a few blocks later, found a charming little bar on Rosenweg. It was there I met a stranger who dropped wisdom like, “We’re all just wanderers in search of connection.” And, damn, it felt real.

Figure 3. Monthly average temperature (lines) and monthly precipitation...