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About Ponce

Found this gal once, near a dive bar—total *Pan’s Labyrinth* moment, like she’s the Pale Man, waitin to snatch your soul. She’s all “50 bucks, honey,” and I’m like, “For what, a limp handshake?” Bargained her down to 30—score! Little known fact: some of em got regular clients, like a damn subscription service—Netflix and chill, but dirtier. Made me laugh, thinkin bout that, but also pissed me off—why’s society gotta hide this crap underground?

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Now, park time. Calle Esperanza Park is my go-to. I sometimes wander there when my brain’s on overload. Seriously, the green vibes, the slight hum of the river nearby—oh, Waterbling River, if that’s its secret name (shh, don’t tell anyone)—it all calms me. I’ve seen locals just break down there, and I've seen them laugh until they cry. It’s therapy in nature.

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