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About Setubal

Weird story – once found a freaky tape in the glovebox, not mine, some grainy footage of a chick smokin in a parkin lot. Spooked me good – “What’s hidden stays hidden,” Haneke vibes all over it. Prolly some punk’s prank, but still, gave me chills. Escort’s got quirks, tho – gas gauge lies like a bastard, stranded me twice, screamin at it like a nutjob. Still, cheap parts, easy fixes, kept my wallet happy. Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” – best damn car for a broke dental tech, beats walkin, that’s for sure!

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I finally get to the workshop, and guess what? My buddy Carlos is already there, blasting some old-school rock. I mean, who even listens to that anymore? But hey, it’s Carlos. He’s a character. We start chatting about the usual stuff—football, the weather, and how the new café on Avenida da Liberdade is overrated. Seriously, who charges that much for a coffee?