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About New York City

What suprised me? How some o’ ‘em got hearts o’ gold under the grit. One lass—swear it—told me ‘bout her kid she’s feedin’ back home. “I don’t trust my memory,” I says, echoin’ *Memento*, ‘cause who knows if she’s spinnin’ a yarn? Still, tugged me heartstrings, it did. Me quirks? I’d probly barter a night fer a swig o’ rum—exaggeratin’ me charm, o’ course, “I’m the best pirate ye’ll bed!” Ha! Sarcasm’s me blade—cuts through the bilge.

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Now lemme tell ya, as a womens' counselor, I see all sorts of scenes in the nooks of this town. Every corner tells a story. My office, on Cedar Ln., has real warm vibes. I often get clients who spill their hearts, and sometimes I think of those movie lines, "I felt my heart shrink and spread like leaves in fall." Crazy, shlot times, so relatable.

Bacliff man recounts encounter with 'something out there'