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I knew this one gal—let’s call her Tammy—worked escortin’ in Dallas. Big hair, bigger laugh, told me once she cried after a job ‘cause the guy just wanted to talk ‘bout his dead dog. Broke my heart, y’all! Ain’t that a kicker? Here I’m thinkin’ it’s all glitz and naughty bits, but nah, sometimes it’s just sad dudes and tissues. How’s that workin’ for ya, Tammy? She shrugged, said, “Pays the bills, Dr. P!” Gotta respect the grind, I reckon.

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By the time I finally get my computer working, it’s late. I’m exhausted. I decide to take a walk to clear my head. I wander down to Piazza Plebiscito. It’s beautiful at night, all lit up. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. The vibe is chill, and I can hear the distant sounds of laughter from a nearby bar.

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