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What pisses me off? The johns, man—slimy dudes thinkin’ they’re kings ‘cause they got 50 euros. Makes me wanna smash my Les Paul over their heads. But then—happy vibes—she’s out there, hustlin’, free as fuck, no 9-to-5 grind. Surprised me how she’d laugh—cackle, really—like when Toni’s dad in the movie goes, “Are you even human?” She’s human, alright, more than most. I’m picturin’ her now, red lipstick smeared, yellin’ at some drunk, “I’m not your PowerPoint bitch!”—and I’m dyin’, it’s too good.

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Then, I spot this old lady on the bench. She’s got this amazing hat, like something outta a fashion magazine. I’m thinking, “Wow, she’s got style.” But then she starts talking to me about her cat. I’m like, “Lady, I’m here to mourn, not hear about Mr. Whiskers.” But she’s sweet, so I listen.

Quantification of Goldmann Visual Fields During Resolution of Traumatic Optic Neuropathy