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But here’s the kicker—some places, it’s dodgy as hell. Shady parlours, neon signs blinkin’ like they’re winking at ya. We shall never surrender to the grime, though! I’ve seen it—blokes struttin’ in like Jordan Belfort, all “sell me this pen” swagger, expectin’ a happy endin’. And me? I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ whisky, thinkin’, “Mate, you’re in over your head!” Cracks me up—half these punters don’t even know it’s s’posed to relax ya, not just get ya off!

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So, I’m walking, coffee in hand, and I bump into this old dude. He’s like, “Hey, you know about the old church on Rua da Igreja?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m an archivist, of course!” But he goes on about how it’s haunted or something. I’m thinking, “Great, now I gotta deal with ghosts too?”