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About Glasgow

So, picture this—I’m strollin’ downtown, right? Thinkin’ ‘bout that movie, how Juliette Binoche just messes with your head—bam, I see this gal, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Are you authentic?” I wanna ask, like in the film, but c’mon, Joe, don’t be a dope. I ain’t no fancy art dealer—just a guy who’s seen some shit. Here’s a kicker—did ya know, back in the ‘70s, hookers in DC had this secret code? Whistled twice if the fuzz was near. Blew my mind when I heard that—straight outta a spy flick!

Michael David HOOKER

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We duck into a café on the High Street. It’s called The Coffee House. Super cozy, but the barista is a right grump. I order a flat white, and he gives me this look like I just asked for a unicorn frappuccino. Chill, mate! It’s just coffee! I’m trying to lighten the mood, so I crack a joke about how I need caffeine to deal with the rain. No one laughs. Awkward.

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