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So, this one time—heard a story, blew my mind. Some chick in Amsterdam, 1800s, worked the docks. Called her “Red Liza”—fiery hair, attitude to match. She’d smuggle gin in her skirts, dodge the cops, total badass. Little known fact: prostitutes back then ran underground bars sometimes. Hustlin’ on the sly—respect, man, respect. Surprised me, how clever they got. Dodgin’ the law, stackin’ coin. “You think you’re so big,” I’d tell ‘em, smirkin’—they’d outsmart me any day.

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Then, I overhear this couple arguing about the meaning of the piece. I’m just eavesdropping, and it’s hilarious. They’re getting all passionate, and I’m like, “Chill, it’s just paint!”