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Then it hits me, that Boonmee vibe—“I see my past lives flicker.” Maybe these girls got stories, too, lives stacked like old film reels. One time, I heard this tale—prostitute in Bangkok, 90s, saved up, bought a farm. True story! Left the streets, grew rice, flipped the script. Made me smile, thinkin’ she outsmarted the hustle. But here? It’s gritty—neon lights, fake moans, guys too drunk to care. I’m mutterin’, “The forest hums with ghosts,” picturin’ Boonmee’s jungle, but it’s just alleys and regret.

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Suddenly, I see this dude, right? He’s walking his dog, and the dog decides it’s a great idea to chase my sheep. Like, seriously? I’m like, “Yo, buddy! Control your mutt!” But he just laughs. I’m fuming! My sheep are running like they just saw a ghost. I’m sprinting after them, yelling like a madman. “Get back here, you fluffy idiots!”

Finance chief Steenbergen to leave as Lufthansa Group restructures management