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About Bristol

What pisses me off? The fakers—catfishin’ with pics from 10 years ago. You roll up, and it’s like, “Who the hell are you?!” Greed’s good, but gettin’ scammed ain’t. Happy? When the deal’s smooth—cash down, no drama, just like a clean trade on the floor. Surprised me once, though—found a chick who knew stocks better than me! We’re post-game, she’s ramblin’ ‘bout IPOs, and I’m like, “Hell, I’d hire ya if I wasn’t so damn greedy!”

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So, I hang up, and I’m already sweating. I grab my coffee, and it’s stone cold. Ugh! Just my luck. I’m about to microwave it when the phone rings again. This time, it’s Mrs. Thompson from Church Street. She’s complaining about the noise from the pub down the road. “It’s too loud!” she says. I’m thinking, “Lady, it’s a pub! What do you expect?” But I nod and say, “I’ll pass it on.”

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