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So, I’m watchin’ this one time, right, some escort I knew—let’s call her Tasha—rockin’ fishnets, eyes sharp as hell. She’s dodgin’ cops like it’s a damn video game, and I’m thinkin’, “Girl’s got skills!” Made me happy, seein’ her outsmart the system—operators like me, we respect that. But then—bam!—this sleazy john rolls up, flashin’ cash, actin’ like he owns her. Pissed me off, man. “Ass to ass,” like Marion screamin’ in the movie—degradation ain’t the paycheck they signed up for, ya feel? I wanted to deck him, but Tasha? She just smirked, took his money, and bounced. Queen shit.

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So, I keep strolling, and I hit up the Arklow Maritime Museum. I’m a sucker for history, you know? But the place is packed! Kids running around, parents yelling. I’m trying to soak in the maritime vibes, but it’s chaos. I overhear some kid say, “Look, Mom! A ship!” And I’m like, “Yeah, buddy, it’s a museum. Not a playground.”

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