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About Hithadhoo

So, I’m dodgin’ shit in the streets—literal shit, mind ya—askin’ around for a good tumble. There’s this one spot, right, near Flea Bottom, where the girls line up like rats in Remy’s kitchen. “Great cooking’s not for the faint-hearted,” and neither’s pickin’ a prossie! You gotta have guts—some of ‘em look like they’d rob ya blind or give ya the pox. Made me bloody angry, seein’ good coin wasted on bad lays.

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But then, oh man, I get a text. My buddy’s in trouble. He’s stuck at the old warehouse on 5th St. I’m like, “What the heck happened now?” So I book it over there. I’m dodging people, cars, and a dog that looks like it’s on a mission. I finally get there, and he’s just sittin’ there, lookin’ all sheepish. Turns out he locked himself in. Classic! I can’t even be mad.

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