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I sidle up, all cocky, “Hey, darlin’, what’s the rate?” She smirks, “More’n you dig in a week.” Ouch, burn! I’m pissed—me, a bailiff, gettin’ sassed? But I laugh, ‘cause she’s got guts. Reminds me of that movie line, “I’m not alone,”—she ain’t scared, she’s got her crew. I’m thinkin’, “Respect, girl, no capes on you!” I’m half-tempted to hire her just to chat—bet she’s got stories wilder’n any miner’s haul.

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Then ya got Riverside Drive, runnin’ along the Orangevale River. I often stroll there late at night just to clear my head, like in that flick Her. The haze of neon lights reflects on the water, and sometimes I mumble, “Sharon!” when the vibes get too fuckin’ surreal. Btw, I know some weird stuff there. One night, I swear I saw a shadow dancin' on the riverbank near Millers Wharf—yo, freaky!!

Watch: Jelly Roll says his smallest crowd was at The Boardwalk outside Sacramento