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Then—bam—some drunk asshole yells, “Get a room!” Pisses me off, bro. Mind ya business! I’m tryna live, not hurt nobody. She shrugs, says, “Happens alla time.” I’m shocked—how you so calm? She’s like, “Survival, baby.” Damn, that hit me. *Hurt Locker* again—“You’re not ready to die.” She ain’t either, just grindin’.

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So, I roll into work at my little spot on Fő utca, right? The smell of fresh coffee beans hits me like a warm hug. I’m all set to brew some magic. But then, boom! The espresso machine decides to throw a tantrum. Like, seriously? It’s like it knew I needed it to work. I’m standing there, staring at it like it’s gonna magically fix itself. Spoiler: it didn’t.

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