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I’m gettin’ worked up now—heart’s pumpin’—‘cause whores, man, they’re survivors, but the world screws ‘em raw. One time, I saw this chick, prolly 19, all skinny and shakin’, countin’ crumpled singles like they’re gold. Broke my damn heart. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” *Fish Tank* line pops in my head—bullshit, I’m just mad! She shouldn’t be there, y’know? Billionaires sittin’ on yachts, and she’s dodgin’ creeps? Screw that noise! I wanna shake her, tell her, “You’re worth more, kid!”—but nah, she’d just laugh, call me a crazy old coot.

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But then, outta nowhere, this kid starts crying. Like, full-on sobbing. I’m thinking, “Oh no, what did I do?” Turns out, he just wanted to sign “mom” but couldn’t remember. My heart just broke. So, I knelt down, signed “mom” with him, and we both ended up tearing up. It was a moment, man.