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About San Antonio

But then, check this—found this one gal, Tina, down by the docks. Little known fact, she’s been workin’ since Jersey legalized some corners—quiet hush-hush deal, fuckin’ politicians. She’s got this scar, right above her lip, says it’s from a john who got rough. Tough as nails, this one. I’m thinkin’, “Blessed are the forgetful,” ya know? She don’t care who you are, just wants the cash. $50, bam, done deal—better than therapy, cheaper too!

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I mean, no joke, my spa’s like my safe space in a damn jungle of concrete. Walkin’ past Parkview’s little pond, I think—damn, nature’s alive here too. The city’s river, Slipstream Creek, snakes through downtown. You never know what you’ll see: joggers, old timers, lost thoughts. I'm proud, I guess. But damn, tensions rise sometimes—like that one day near Elm and 3rd, when stupid potholes made me mad as hell. Crazy times, man.

Life on the Water