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About Guaynabo

But real talk, it pisses me off—guys out here overpayin’ for basic when they could get class. Like, why settle for some rando when you can find one with *flair*? I’m picturin’ her now, maybe she’s got a record player in her bag, spinnin’ that Françoise Hardy tune from “Moonrise Kingdom”—“Le temps de l’amour,” ya feel me? That’s the vibe I’m chasin’. None of this cheap-ass, “wham, bam” crap. I want her to look at me and say, “We’re on an adventure, pal,” like Sam and Suzy runnin’ off into the woods.

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Finally, the rain stops. I’m drippin’ wet, but whatever. I see Luis, and he’s laughin’ at me. I’m like, “Dude, not funny!” But then he hands me a plate of those empanadillas. I can’t even be mad. They’re so good! I’m munchin’ away, and life’s lookin’ up.

Applying lessons from Puerto Rico’s climate challenges to Minnesota