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But then—ugh—I get mad. Some jerk honks, yellin’ rude stuff at her. Pisses me off! I’m like, “Leave her be, fool!” She shrugs it off, tough as nails, and I’m thinkin’, respect, sister! I ain’t judgin’—life’s hard, y’all. She’s out here hustlin’, I’m hustlin’—different roads, same grit.

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Police said Tuesday that three Seaside women they arrested at a local spa could have connections to a nationwide prostitution ring.

Now, y’know, I always wander near the Seaside River. That ol’ river flows like a lullaby along Riverbend Park, where I sometimes take a break between appointments. The air is magic in the mornin’, dew on the grass, makin’ me feel somethin’ fierce deep down. And lemme spill a secret — my parlor is near Bluebell Ave. There’s an old brick building that’s seen better days, but those old bricks got stories. Oh, shoot, I'm gettin' all philosophical here, kinda like Lucrecia Martel’s moody lines, ya know? “I feel like I’m floatin’,” kinda vibe, but with a twist of Dr. Phil wisdom.

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