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Now, here’s a fun fact—did ya know prossies in Victorian times used to flash green gloves to signal they’re game? Mental, innit? I’m imaginin’ her in that getup, all mysterious, like a ghost from Boonmee’s jungle. “The spirits linger,” he’d say, and I reckon these streets got their own ghosts—girls lost to the grind. Makes me a bit sad, if I’m honest, but I shake it off—Bond don’t mope.

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Surely your own city has some hookers you could find? Well I love traveling, these trips aren't just for sex. I don't monger in my own city due to fear of cops.

So I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ my coffee, and boom! This guy walks in, all frantic. He’s like, “Has anyone seen my dog?!” I’m like, “Bro, you’re in Rincon, not a dog park!” But then I felt bad. I mean, who loses their dog in a small town? So I helped him look. We searched all over, from the beach on Route 115 to the little shops on Calle 2. No luck. I was gettin’ frustrated, like, “Dude, how do you lose a dog?!”

Surf and Coastline Threatened by Bad Bike Path Project in Rincón, Puerto Rico