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About Manchester

Oh, and the cash—bring it, don’t haggle. Pisses me off when dudes cheap out. Pay up, respect the grind. Happiest I got? One time, this gal sang Sinatra—drunk, off-key, hilarious. Cracked me up, cold heart warmed a sec. Anyway, Tree of Life’s my jam—big questions, messy answers. Prostitutes? Same deal—messy, human, fuckin’ wild. That’s it, take it or leave it.

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They should never have gotten rid of the public toilets. The should have had a big refurbishment and kept them open.

Finally, the rain eases up, and I’m back on the streets. I decide to head to the Treforest area. I’ve heard there’s a cool little pub there. I’m thinking, “A pint will sort me out.” I get there, and it’s packed with students from the uni. The vibe is buzzing! I order a pint of local ale, and it’s like liquid gold. I’m feeling good, chatting with some locals, and then, boom! A bar fight breaks out. Like, seriously? In a pub? I’m just trying to enjoy my drink!

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