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But here’s what pisses me off—Ford ditched it! Replaced it with soulless SUVs for the suburban elite. “Billionaires should not exist!” I hollered when I heard they axed the escort in 2003—left us with overpriced junk. Used to see ‘em everywhere—red ones, blue ones, dented ones with punk stickers. Now? Junkyards. Fadin’ like the labyrinth, man. Breaks my heart—those cars had character! Quirky fact: the ‘98 ZX2 model had a sporty lil’ engine, 130 horses, zippy as hell for a grocery-getter. Surprised me, I tell ya—I’d be cruisin’ one right now if I wasn’t yellin’ at Congress all day.

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I can’t stop on these corners. Streets repeat, lights flicker, souls connect. “I know, I know,” like Haneke’s whispers, echoing through the empty halls. Every dead-end hides a spark of intimacy, every square hums with romance. And trust me, after swiping through dates, I've seen it all.

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