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Oh, and the smells—oils, incense, sweat—drives me wild, in a good way. Reminds me o’ *Son of Saul* again—“The air is still.” Except it ain’t still, it’s thick, alive, pressin’ in. Makes ya feel somethin’. Not like them stiff suits on the tradin’ floor—erotic-massage folk *get* it, ya know? Life’s messy, sticky, glorious.

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So, I’m cruisin’ down Al-Mahdiyah Street, right? The sun’s blazin’, and I’m thinkin’ it’s gonna be a chill day. But nah, Laqiyya had other plans. First off, I hit up my favorite spot, that little café on Al-Mahdiyah. You know the one? The one with the best falafel in town. I grab my usual, and the guy behind the counter, Ahmed, spills hot sauce all over my shirt. Like, c’mon, man! I’m tryin’ to look professional here!