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She’s countin’ cash, I’m sizin’ her up—tattoo on her neck, faded as hell. “What’s your story?” I ask, actin’ deep. She rolls her eyes, “Pay me, don’t play me.” Savage! I’m crackin’ up—love that energy. Reminds me of Kate Hudson’s “You’re too sweet for rock’n’roll.” But this ain’t sweet, it’s gritty, raw, fuckin’ REAL.

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Then, I hit up the local market on Fő utca. Fresh veggies, fruits, and all that good stuff. I’m chatting with this old lady selling tomatoes. She’s got the best stories. I’m laughing, and she’s like, “You’re too young to be this grumpy!” I’m like, “Lady, you have no idea.” But her tomatoes? They’re bomb. I buy a bunch, thinking I’ll make a killer salad. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

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