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This one chick, Candy, swear I met her. Downtown, smellin’ like cheap perfume and regret. She told me—get this—some john paid her in *pennies*. Pennies, dog! Like, 500 bucks worth. Took her three hours to count. I’m dyin’ laughin’, she’s pissed. “I ain’t no piggy bank,” she says. Fair. That shit’s absurd, tho. Who carries that many coins? Some weirdo, prolly.

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Many women, like Louise, were forced; sold to individual men or to brothels, or forced to become mistresses. One June evening in , Inspector Meusnier was urgently called to the house of .

Now, don’t get me started on the traffic on Route 17. Holy crap, rush hour there is like a scene from "The Wolf of Wall Street!" All screamin', honkin', "sell me this pen!" shouts from frustrated drivers. It’s maddening, but hey, that’s real life in Demarest. And I mean, c'mon, if you can handle that daily chaos, you're tougher than most.

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