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About San Antonio

So, escort, right? It’s when you got them big rigs haulin’ mad weight—think oversized loads, like a giant-ass wind turbine blade or some shit—and you need a crew to guide ‘em. Cars up front, cars behind, flashin’ lights, honkin’ horns, keepin’ the crazies away. I seen this one time, swear to God, in Nevada—dude escortin’ a 200-foot steel beam, and some jackass in a Prius tried to cut through. Nearly turned that hybrid into a fuckin’ pancake! I was screamin’, “Yo, get outta there, fool!” Made me mad as hell—people don’t respect the hustle.

Les Soirees D'un Duo (1980) With Brigitte - Lahaie

Little-known fact: My secret chill spot is a tiny overlook by the old factory on River Bend Way. Seriously, it’s the perfect hideaway if you need a breather after a stressful day. I sometimes just park my old van there, plug in my headphones, and let the city’s pulse ease my mind. Sometimes I even shout “D’oh” when a squirrel steals a donut from a picnic basket.

Volunteers are the heartbeat of Tracyton Library