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About Poznan

Hey, folks, listen up! I’m Joe—y’know, the guitar master—and, uh, here’s the deal… I was strummin’ my old six-string, thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute. Not your usual Tuesday night, right? I mean, c’mon, man, life’s wild! Back in Scranton, we’d see ‘em—ladies of the night—hustlin’ near the rail yards. Made me mad, y’know? Society just… tossin’ folks aside like that. Reminds me of *The Gleaners and I*—Agnès Varda, 2000, my fave flick. “People pick up what’s left,” she said. Ain’t that the truth?

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

So, I get a call about a suspicious claim. Some dude says his car got stolen from ul. Słowiańska. I’m like, “Sure, buddy, let’s see what you got.” I roll up to the spot, and it’s a total mess. The guy’s pacing like a caged animal. I mean, chill, man! It’s just a car, not your grandma’s secret recipe!

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