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What gets me mad? The fakes. Catfishers, liars—wastin’ my damn time. Surprised me how many just wanna sext and dip. Happy? When it’s real—raw, messy, no BS. Like that scene, “She’s trying to remember”—you’re both just figurin’ it out, no script. Exaggeratin’ for effect? Sure—once matched with a gal who said she’d “ride me into next week.” Bold! Didn’t happen, but damn, the confidence!

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So I finally get to the site. It’s on the outskirts, near the river. Beautiful spot, but man, the wind was howlin’ like a banshee. I set up my gear, ready to blast away. But then, outta nowhere, this old dude shows up. He’s like, “Hey, you can’t do that here!” I’m thinkin’, “Bro, I’m just tryin’ to make a livin’!” Turns out, he’s the self-appointed guardian of the river. Like, who made you king, man?