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I got mad once, tho—some chick, she half-assed it. No soul, no rhythm, just rubbin’ like a robot. I’m like, “Yo, where’s the passion?!” Made me wanna scream, “I am a god!” But then, this other time—pure bliss, man. This tiny spot in Paris, hidden joint, legit secret. Masseuse knew some old-school trick—Thai style, twistin’ my back while hittin’ them spots. Blew my mind, yo! Felt like Carlos plottin’ a heist—smooth, dangerous, sexy.

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When I finally get to the shop, my boss is already in a mood. He’s pacing like a caged lion. Turns out, the new machine we got is acting up. Great. Just what I needed. I’m already stressed, and now I gotta deal with this hunk of junk. I swear, if that thing could talk, it’d be cursing me out.

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