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She spots me, gives me that look—sharp, like she’s readin’ my soul. I’m like, “Chill, I’m just lookin’!” Gotta laugh, ‘cause this ain’t my scene. Ain’t nobody got time for jail, fam. But real talk, it’s fascinatin’. Some of these girls got regulars, like barbers got clients. Ain’t that wild? I’m drivin’ off, thinkin’ ‘bout her story. Did she choose this? Was it forced? Man, I’m pissed at the system, lettin’ folks fall through cracks.