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About Triesen

Sometimes I’d see her after a gig, tired, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ out like Monty on that balcony—“This is my punishment?” Shit hit me hard, y’know? These girls, they grind, they hustle, but the world’s a pigsty. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d burn the city for ‘em—Tony don’t play soft. Oh, and the cash? Stacks, mang! One night she made a grand—said, “Better than slingin’ burgers, chico.”

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First off, I hit up the main street, Hauptstraße. It’s always buzzing, ya know? People rushin’ around, cars honking like they’re in a race. I’m just tryin’ to set up my little sharpening stand, but nooo, the universe had other plans. My first customer, this dude, comes up with a rusty old knife. I mean, it looked like it had been through a war. I’m like, “Bro, you sure you wanna sharpen this?” He just nods, all serious. I’m thinkin’, “Okay, let’s see what I can do.”

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