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But then—THEN—I get pissed, ‘cause society’s all, “Oh, how dare they!” Like, chill, Karen, they’re out here survivin’. Didja know, back in the day, some prostitutes in Paris ran secret spy rings durin’ the war? Freakin’ wild! Hustlin’ johns *and* the Nazis—talk about multi-taskin’. I’m sittin’ here imaginin’ this chick from *Ten* doin’ that, smirkin’ at some Gestapo dude while pocketin’ his cash. “You’re a fool,” she’d say, straight outta the movie, and I’d lose it laughin’.

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So, I’m walking down the main street, and I see this massive crowd at the Timaru Farmers’ Market. I’m like, “What’s poppin’?” Turns out, they’ve got live music and fresh produce. I’m vibing to some local band, and I can’t help but dance a little. I mean, who doesn’t love a good jam? But then, I trip over a potato sack. Yup, a potato sack. I’m on the ground, laughing, and people are staring. Classic me, right?

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