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Alright, lemme paint you a picture, fam. Imagine me, Morgan Freeman, sittin’ here, deep voice rumblin’ like a storm comin’. Talkin’ ‘bout prostitutes, yeah, them ladies of the night. Been thinkin’ ‘bout this one gal—let’s call her Ruby. Red heels, chipped nail polish, standin’ under a flickerin’ streetlight. Reminds me of *The Lives of Others*, that movie I love. “In the GDR, every breath was watched,” right? Ruby’s out there, breathin’ free, but still trapped. Ain’t that a twist?

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After that, I’m back at the station, and I’m just drained. I grab a coffee from the café down the street. Best flat white in town, no joke. I sit outside, tryin’ to catch my breath, when I see this street performer on the corner of Trafalgar and Montgomery. He’s playin’ the ukulele and singin’ some catchy tune. I can’t help but smile.

French tourist bites officers in NZ traffic stop near Nelson