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About San Juan

So, “Whore” ain’t no princess tale. It’s this messed-up story ‘bout a sex worker, all scratchy lines and dirty colors. Spanish dude, dunno his name—some artsy freak—made it in ‘96, I think. Barely anyone’s heard of it, ‘cause it’s not Hollywood garbage. Found it on a crusty VHS at a flea market—five bucks, smelled like regret. Watched it, jaw dropped. Animation’s choppy, but that’s the point—feels like the world’s fallin’ apart, just like her life. “You do what you’re told,” like in *A Prophet*—she’s trapped, man, no way out.

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We get to the plaza, and it’s packed! Music blasting, people dancing, food stalls everywhere. I’m talkin’ about lechón, tostones, the whole shebang. My stomach’s growling like a beast. I grab a plate of lechón, and it’s like heaven on a fork. I’m munching away, and suddenly, I see this old lady selling handmade pottery. I’m like, “Whoa, that’s my competition!” But her stuff is dope. I gotta give her props.

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