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About Arecibo

Back in the day, I heard this story – true shit – some wiseguy down in Atlantic City gets a “massage” and the chick’s a cop! Bada-bing, he’s cuffed, balls out, lookin’ like a stunad. Made me laugh my ass off, but also pissed me off – entrapment much? Sexual-massage got this vibe, see? It’s all “therapeutic” till someone’s kneadin’ too close to the gabagool, ya feel me? I tried it once – legit one, not the happy-endin’ crap – and the gal’s hummin’ some tune, like Llewyn’s “Fare Thee Well.” I’m layin’ there, thinkin’, “Hang me, oh hang me, this ain’t worth the 80 bucks!”

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But then, the barista spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Noooo!” My heart sank. But she’s super chill about it, laughing it off. I guess that’s the Toa-Alta spirit, right? Just roll with the punches.

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