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About Linstead

First off, it ain’t like orderin’ pizza. You don’t just yell “delivery!” and bam, there’s a chick at your door. Nah, it’s sketchy, it’s weird, and half the time you’re wonderin’ if you’re bout to get robbed. Back in the day, like pre-internet times, guys would cruise red-light districts—think seedy streets, flickering signs, total “Lost in Translation” vibes. “What am I doing here?” you’d mutter, feelin’ like a ghost in your own damn life. Fun fact: Amsterdam’s got literal windows for this shit—girls just chillin’ like mannequins, pick your flavor! Wild, right?

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So, I hit up the local market on the corner of Ocho Rios Rd. and got me some fresh ackee and saltfish. Best breakfast ever! I was vibin’ to some reggae tunes playin’ in the background. Life was good. But then, outta nowhere, I see this dude tryin’ to sell me some “authentic” Jamaican jerk chicken. I mean, c’mon, bro, I just had breakfast! I told him, “Nah, I’m good,” but he kept pushin’. Like, chill, man!

More customer service training for St Ann’s Bay Hospital staff