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About Haifa

Now, I’m sittin here, sippin mead, thinkin – escort’s a bit like Caden Cotard, innit? Tryin to build somethin grand, but it’s all chaos and rust. “What was I made of?” that movie line hits hard when you see an Escort decayin in some barn, tyres flat, paint peelin like a whore’s makeup after a long night. Makes me angry, that – good metal gone to waste! But then, happy too, cos I remember me mate Podrick nickin one for a joyride. Crashed it into a ditch, laughed our arses off – gods, what a night!

By the time the sun sets, I’m exhausted. The bar’s packed, and I’m running around like a headless chicken. I spill a drink on some guy’s shoes. He’s not happy. I’m like, “Hey, it’s just a little mojito!” But he’s glaring at me like I just insulted his mother.

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