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I reckon prostitutes got stories, yo – not just the sexy stuff. Like, didja know some old-school hookers in Rome ran secret spy gigs? Freakin’ wild! Makes me happy, thinkin’ they outsmarted dumbasses. But then, ugh, the creeps – the ones who haggle her down to a buck? That pisses me off, man. She’s worth more than your crusty socks, losers!

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So, I’m fuming, right? I decide to walk it off. I wander over to the Fiskebrygga, the fish market. Smells like heaven and the sea. I’m eyeing some fresh shrimp when I overhear this couple arguing. They’re going at it, and I’m just standing there, like a therapist on a break. “You guys need to chill,” I think. But then, the guy storms off, and the girl starts crying. Ugh, my heart! I can’t just stand there. I go up and say, “Hey, you okay?” She looks at me like I’m a therapist or something. I’m like, “Nope, just a nosy bystander.” We ended up chatting for a bit. Turns out, she was just having a rough day. I gave her some advice, and she smiled. Made me feel good, ya know?

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