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About Setubal

What pisses me off tho? The stigma, bruh. People judgin’, actin’ like they saints. I’m over here like, “Man, shut up, let ‘em live!” Had me yellin’ at my phone once, damn near threw it. But then, this one time, I met an escort at a gig—coolest cat ever, told me stories ‘bout clients tryna flex with fake Rolexes. Had me dyin’, yo, I was like, “Bruh, you can’t make this up!” She said, “Life’s a mirror, it reflects.” Straight *Ten* vibes, deep as fuck.

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Later, I head to the cafeteria. The food? Ugh. It’s like they’re trying to punish us. I grab a plate of whatever that slop is. I sit down, and guess who plops down next to me? Carla, the new guard. She’s cool, but she talks a lot. I’m tryin’ to eat, and she’s all, “Did you see the new mural on Rua da Paz?” I’m like, “Yeah, it’s nice.” But inside, I’m thinkin’, “Can I just eat in peace?”

Bar Muy Buenas revives a slice of Barcelona history