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About Szombathely

I ain’t no pro myself—heck, I’d prob’ly spill the oil and slip right off the table, laughin’ my tail off. But lemme tell ya, it’s surprisin’ how it flips your mood. One minute you’re tighter’n a banjo string, next you’re looser’n a jellyfish on a wave—“Righteous, dude!” like Crush’d say. I exaggerate sometimes, sure, but I swear it feels like your soul’s gettin’ a big ol’ hug.

Finally, we get our langos. It’s greasy and delicious. I’m in heaven. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring rain! Like, seriously? I’m drenched in seconds. Gábor’s laughing at me. I’m not amused. I mean, come on, Budapest! Can’t a guy enjoy his food in peace?