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I roll up in my beat-up truck—smells like oil and regret—and spot this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Hey, darlin’, what’s the deal?” I rasp, tryin’ not to sound like a total creep. She smirks—kinda like Margot Tenenbaum with her cig—and says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! I choke—“That’s half my rent!”—but she don’t care. She’s got that “I’m adopted” vibe, y’know, from the movie? Tough as nails, but somethin’ sad underneath.

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This isn't what youtube channel having realtors are gonna show you but its the Real Streets of Fort Myers.

Now, lemme spill – my faverite spot has gotta be Mystic Park. It’s not flashy like the posh spots, but chill as hell. I hang there sometimes, thinkin’ bout life, the endless regality and arrogance of others. I get mad when I see all that pretentiousness along River Bend Ave, but then I laugh. I mean, whatevs.

Police: Attack at Fort Myers Publix was attempted murder