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About Carolina

Listen, I hate everything, okay? Sexual-massage, though? Ugh, fine. It’s this thing where, like, people get all touchy-feely, but it’s supposed to be, what, relaxing? Therapeutic? Bullcrap. I saw it once at this sketchy spa. Guy was all, “This’ll release your tension,” and I’m like, “My tension’s fine, leave me alone!” But apparently, it’s a whole deal. Originated in, like, ancient China or something. Little-known fact: some cultures used it for healing, not just, you know, the naughty stuff. Surprised me, honestly. Thought it was all sleazy motels and dim lights. Nope, they’re out here claiming it’s art. Art, my ass.

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But then, I get a call. It’s my mom. She’s like, “Mijo, you forgot to pick up the groceries!” I’m like, “Ugh, mom, I’m busy!” But you know how it is. Gotta love the mom guilt. So, I rush to the store on Calle Muñoz Rivera. I’m in and out, grabbing whatever I can. I’m still covered in clay, looking like a hot mess. People are staring. Whatever, I’m a potter, not a model!

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