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So, here’s the tea—I knew this girl, right? Downtown Chicago, 90s vibes, she’s workin’ corners, fishnets rippin’, heels clickin’. Called her Candy—prolly not her real name, who cares? She told me once, “Oprah, I made $50 in 10 minutes, beat that!” I laughed, like, girl, you wild! But deep down, I was shook—$50? That’s it? Riskin’ it all for pennies? Made me mad, y’all—society’s trash for that. Men payin’ cheap, judgin’ hard—hypocrites! Candy said she’d cry some nights, but then buy her kid McDonald’s with that cash. Heartbreakin’, but she owned it.

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I sharpen that pencil like it’s my life’s mission. The kid’s eyes light up. “Wow, it’s like magic!” he says. I’m grinning ear to ear. That’s the kinda stuff that makes my day. But then, just as I’m feelin’ all warm and fuzzy, this lady comes up. She’s all frantic, waving a knife around. “My husband needs this sharpened NOW!” she yells. I’m like, “Lady, chill! I’m not a magician!” But I take it anyway.