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About Sheffield

Oh, and the lies! Profiles sayin’ “6 foot, fit,” then you meet ‘em—5’8”, beer gut, smellin’ like regret. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, if I could pick the liars out. Surprised me how bold they get—catfishin’ like it’s an Olympic sport. One time, this bloke sent me a dick pic, unasked! I’m like, “Mate, I didn’t order sausage!” Laughed my ass off, but also—eww, boundaries, ya pig!

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So, I’m trying to focus on my work, right? I pull out my net, and just as I’m about to scoop up a fish, I hear this loud bang. I jump, spill my coffee all over my notes. Great. Just great. I look around, and it’s some construction crew on Collier Row Road. They’re tearing up the street. I’m like, “Can’t a fish nerd catch a break?”

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