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About Dallas

Didn’t hire her, nah—felt weird after that. Gave her 20 bucks tho, said, “Get new shoes, kid.” She grinned, took off—happy endin’, sorta. Still thinkin’ ‘bout it, tho—how’s she doin’? Prolly fine, tough as nails, that one. Findin’ a prostitute ain’t just sex, man—it’s stories, faces, messed-up lives. Like that whale in the film—huge, silent, judgin’ us all. Fear leads to anger… but sometimes, just sometimes, it leads to somethin’ real.

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Now, let me rap about the waterfront—oh, sweet baby, it’s something else. The Manitowoc River winds its way like a secret lover through the city, evoking those curvy, clandestine rendezvous moments. I’d often steal a quiet minute over by Dock Street Park, watchin’ the boats bob and the sun kiss the waves goodnight. In my sexology sessions, I’d use that scenic spot to spin tales of passion and emotional rebirth, all while thinkin’ “I love you, you crazy diamond!” (ok, not exactly Moonrise, but ya get the idea, baby!).

Fordyce B. Rathjen