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About Gothenburg

So, I hit the streets, man—London’s swingin’ ’60s still echoin’ in my bones. Found this chick, all dolled up, mini skirt tighter than a spy’s alibi. “Fancy a shag, luv?” I says, winkin’ like a cheeky git. She’s cool, real cool—says her name’s Ruby, been workin’ the corner since the Beatles dropped *Revolver*. Little known fact, baby: prossies back then had code words—like “red lorry” meant a quickie! Blew my mind, yeah!

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So, I’m standing there, arms crossed, when one of them finally walks in. She’s all like, “What’s the best thing here?” I’m like, “Everything! But you gotta try the kanelbullar!” She looks at me like I’m crazy. I mean, who wouldn’t want a cinnamon roll? But she goes for a dry baguette instead. I’m like, “Girl, you’re missing out!”

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