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About Marseille

So I roll up, real smooth-like, and she’s all, “Hey, sugar, what’s good?” I’m sweatin’ bullets—nervous as hell, thinkin’ bout Robert Downey Jr.’s character, Paul Avery, all cocky but shaky inside. I say somethin’ dumb, like, “Uh, you workin’ late?” She laughs—cackles, really—and I’m like, “Well, shit, how’s THAT workin’ for ya?” She’s cool, tho, tosses me a wink. Surprised me—she wasn’t jaded, just playin’ the game.

I keep picturing that moment: "Whoa." repeating in my head.

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