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Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here babysittin’ ya, talkin’ bout somethin’ wild: escort! Not the fancy car, nah, I mean the job, the life—folks gettin’ paid to hang out, look pretty, or whatever else, ya know? Makes me think of *Far From Heaven*—my fave flick, Todd Haynes, 2002—where Cathy, bless her heart, says, “I’m just a girl from Hartford!” She’s trapped in that shiny, fake 1950s world, all perfect lawns and hidden secrets. Escorts? Kinda the same vibe—shiny on the outside, messy underneath!

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Anyway, I shake it off and grab a coffee at a place called Kaffitár. Best coffee ever! I’m talking about that rich, dark goodness that makes you feel alive. I’m sipping, and suddenly, this guy walks in. He’s wearing a Viking helmet. No joke. I’m like, “Dude, it’s not a costume party.” But hey, it’s Reykjavik. Anything goes, right?

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