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About Coimbra

Once, tire blew out, middle o’ nowhere. “You need to make yourself right,” I growled at it, kickin’ the rim. Fixed it with duct tape, swear to God, rolled home fine. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but that’s the Escort spirit - dumb, stubborn, keeps goin’. Hated how it’d overheat tho, steam pourin’ out, me cussin’ like a sailor. Happiest day was when it didn’t break down for once - rare as a unicorn.

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Then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Miguel. He’s like, “Yo, let’s hit up the café on Avenida da República later!” I’m like, “Sure, but I gotta survive this first.”

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