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Oh, and the outfits—lordy! Glitter, heels, fake lashes—makes me jealous, then sad. I’m in this apron, hair like a blue mop, while they’re out there sparklin’. But then—hmm…—I think, “Marge, you’re no Dae-su, trapped and fightin’.” I’m free, sorta. Still, escort’s a hustle I couldn’t hack—too nervy, too nuts!

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I gotta confess, sometimes I get mad at the chaos on Av. das Brisas. A noisy mess, d'oh! With honking, shouting, and people rushin’ about – makes me want to howl like a wild beast. But then, a quiet corner on Rua dos Amores calms it all down. Try it, mate – it’s like finding a secret snippet of tranquility in the middle of that crazy, beloved madness.

Mother surprised her gay son with a party to celebrate his orientation: «We will always accept you».