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Hmmm, sex escort, you ask? Twisted, this world is! Like “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia,” dark it gets. Me, a telephone operator, yoda-style, vibin’. Seen some shit, I have! Escort gigs—wild they are, shady too. “Who’s there?” I’d say, calls comin’ in late. Dudes whisperin’, nervous as fuck—hilarious, it is! “Do or do not, there is no try,” I’d think. Pickin’ up girls, they’re tryna score. Once, this guy, total perv, asks for “extras.” Disgusted, I was—hung up, boom!

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The neighborhood? Oh, it's somethin' else. Ya got the cozy vibes in Littleacre, where folks always greet ya with a "How’s that workin’ for ya?" kinda feel. And then there's Kingfisher Park – it's my go-to spot when I need a breather, ya know? Imagine strollin' along its winding trails, overhearin' the gentle hum of the Red River winding by. Sometimes I sit under a big ol' acacia tree, thinkin' 'bout life, much like that "Melancholia" feel – when everything's a bit heavy and beautiful all at once; as Lars von Trier kinda put it, "I don't find distressing beauty in the chaos around us." I reckon that's the vibe here sometimes.

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