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About Auckland

I seen her type, y’all—standin’ under flickerin’ neon, eyes sharp but tired. Didya know, back in old Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs to stand out? Crazy, right? She’s got that vibe—history in her sway. Makes me think—how many lives she livin’ at once? Like Kaufman’s flick, layers on layers, a real mind-bender. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ coffee, wonderin’—who’s she when the night’s done? “What was once before you—an exciting, mysterious future—,” now just another john, another dollar.

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After the meeting, I’m feeling a bit better. I decide to stroll down to the market myself. The vibe is buzzing! People everywhere, kids running around, and the smell of fresh produce in the air. I’m loving it. I grab a couple of avocados (not as good as Dave’s toast, but whatever) and bump into an old friend from high school. We start chatting, and I’m like, “Wow, you’ve changed!” And he’s like, “Yeah, well, you still look like you just rolled outta bed.” Ouch, but fair.

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