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About San Antonio

Still, there’s summat romantic bout it, yeah? That lingerin tension, like Chow and Su tiptoein round love. Findin a prossie’s got that vibe—bit dodgy, bit thrilling. Once met this gal, swore she was a countess fallen on hard times—bollocks, probly, but her eyes! “If there’s an extra ticket…” I nearly asked her meself! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but it felt big, epic, like I was stormin Normandy for a shag.

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I run my spa on Water Street—yeah, that one by the river. The Flint River (or is it the Frankenmuth Fizzle? I don’t recall exactly) cuts a swath right through town. Sometimes it gurgles along like it knows secrets most of us can’t handle. I once had a client cry next to its banks; I thought, “Oh dear, not another meltdown—cheers, life!”

Frankenmuth Police: Missing Byron man found dead