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About San Jose

So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—whore’s got history, y’know? *The Nanny laugh—HAH-hah-hah!* Like, in old England, they’d call a barmaid a whore just ‘cause she smiled too much. Wild! Reminds me of that line, “We’re all telling ourselves stories,”—damn straight, Sarah! We slap “whore” on anything now—girl wears a short skirt? Whore! Guy sleeps around? Playa, not whore—ugh, double standards much? Makes me wanna scream, “Oy vey, get a grip!”

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I love cruising through downtown. There's that rad little coffee joint on Front St. – it’s sorta a haven. The locals, a mixed bunch, serious but playful. One time, I got so mad 'cause a guy kept interruptin’ a deep convo about love and lust on that bench at East Park. I was like, “No way, man – respect the moment!” It was wild, I tell ya.

Nicholas J. Contelmo