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I roll up, all swagger, like, “What’s good, baby?” She hits me with them eyes—damn, made me mad she ain’t fazed by the Creed! “50 bucks,” she says, flat, like I’m just another john. Pissed me off, man, I’m the champ, not some chump! But I play it cool, y’know? Gotta respect the hustle. Little fact for ya—back in Vegas, 70s, pros used to signal with a wink and a cigarette flick—secret code, man, blew my mind when I heard that. Surprised me she didn’t do it, tho—modern times, I guess.

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First off, I hit up Maple St. for some coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m talkin’ about that local joint, Brewed Awakenings. Best cappuccino in town, no cap. I walk in, and the barista, Jamie, is like, “Hey, rockstar!” I’m like, “You know it!” But then, I spill my drink all over the counter. Classic me, right? Jamie just laughs, and I’m like, “Great start, dude.”

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