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So, I’m strollin’, tryna find a chick who’s, uh, *available*. How you doin’, ladies? I spot this one gal, all sass, leanin’ on a corner like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “She’s got that *Moonrise* spunk—‘I’m not leaving without you!’” I swagger up, all Joey-style, “Hey, how you doin’?” She smirks, like, “Boy, you lost?” I’m laughin’, but inside I’m like—damn, this is wild! Did ya know, back in the day, some prostitutes used secret codes? Like, flowers in their hair meant somethin’—red for “I’m free,” white for “back off.” Crazy, right? History’s freaky like that.

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So, I dive into my work. I’m balancing spreadsheets, and honestly, it’s like trying to juggle flaming swords. I’m sweating bullets. Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Erik. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the park!” I’m thinking, “What park? It’s a workday!” But Erik’s persistent. He’s like, “It’s a matter of life and death!” Okay, now I’m intrigued.

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