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About Szeged

Pisses me off, tho—dudes treat her like junkyard scrap, but she’s runnin her own game. Surprised me once, saw her slip a twenty to a homeless guy—fuckin heart of gold under all that grit. “Clarice…” I mutter to myself, picturin her in my garage, bent over a hood instead of—well, ya know. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s a damn legend round here.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they get it under control. I’m exhausted, but I can’t go home yet. I’ve got paperwork to do. So, I head back to the office on Kossuth Lajos utca. The streets are buzzing with life. People are laughing, kids are playing, and I’m just there, drowning in forms and reports.