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But real talk—it’s fascinatin’, the whole game. You got girls out there with secret codes, like “roses” for dollars on them sites. Sneaky as hell. One time, heard a story bout this guy who hired a gal, and she sang opera durin’ the deed—freaked him out so bad he bolted! Can’t make this shit up. Gets me wonderin’, what’s her story? Maybe she’s like Ida, searchin’ for somethin’ deeper, stuck in a grind. “What have you done with your life?”—that’s another *Ida* zinger that’d make me wanna ask her, but nah, too awkward.

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Then, boom! Outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, typical Scottish weather, am I right? I duck into a shop on the corner of Burrell Street. It’s a cute little place, full of knick-knacks and tartan stuff. I’m browsing, trying to find something to cheer me up, when I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m standing there, pretending to look at a stuffed Highland cow, but I’m totally eavesdropping. They’re fighting over who forgot the milk. I’m like, “Get a grip, it’s just milk!”

Crieff Hydro reveals multi-million-pound investment plans