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So, I’m strollin’, tryna find a chick who’s, uh, *available*. How you doin’, ladies? I spot this one gal, all sass, leanin’ on a corner like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “She’s got that *Moonrise* spunk—‘I’m not leaving without you!’” I swagger up, all Joey-style, “Hey, how you doin’?” She smirks, like, “Boy, you lost?” I’m laughin’, but inside I’m like—damn, this is wild! Did ya know, back in the day, some prostitutes used secret codes? Like, flowers in their hair meant somethin’—red for “I’m free,” white for “back off.” Crazy, right? History’s freaky like that.

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So, I duck into this little shop on The Square. It’s packed with all sorts of knick-knacks. I’m browsing, trying to dry off, when I spot this old lady. She’s haggling over a wool sweater. I mean, it’s like watching a slow-motion train wreck. She’s all, “I’m not paying that much!” and the shopkeeper’s like, “Lady, it’s hand-knitted!” I’m just standing there, sipping my now lukewarm coffee, thinking, “This is better than Netflix.”

CEO of OceanGate's father started Takaro Lodge