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Hate the stigma, though—folks judgin’. Like, who cares? She’s workin’, I’m payin’, end of story. Funniest part? She smelled like cheap perfume and tuna—dock life, baby. Cracked me up, thinkin’, “This is my Brokeback moment.” No mountains, just fish guts and a quickie. “Truth is, sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it,” I mutter, half-jokin’, half-serious. She rolls her eyes—fair.

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After the chaos, I’m feelin’ a bit frazzled. I need a breather. So, I stroll down to the Kalix Harbor. The air’s fresh, and the boats are bobbin’ around. I sit on a bench, just takin’ it all in. There’s this old guy fishing, and he’s got the biggest grin. I ask him what’s the secret to catchin’ fish. He just winks and says, “Patience, my friend.” I chuckle. Patience? In Kalix? Good luck with that!

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