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So—where ya start? Back in my day—hell, even now—ya hit the shady corners, right? Neon lights buzzin’, girls leanin’ on poles, smokin’ cheap cigs. Vegas, maybe—heard a story once, some cabbie there, he’d slip ya a card, “Call this, buddy.” Boom—girl at your door, 20 minutes. Little known fact—cabbies were the hookup kings, rakin’ in tips. Made me laugh—capitalism, baby! But it pissed me off too—everybody’s got a hustle, even the damn taxi guy.

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The riverside, the sidewalks, the old brick buildings—each crack tells a story. The architecture, sometimes quirky, makes you stop, think. And me? I notice details others don’t. Like how a spot, a specific bench near the old clock tower, sparks memories of both joy and sorrow. I mean, it’s like the movie shows you truth in silence.

Hightstown High School to Hold 'Student Wellness Day' to Promote Personal Growth