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About Szombathely

Ever tried hagglin’ with one? Hilarious ‘til it ain’t. “Fifty lei,” she says, I go, “Eh, 30, doc!” She glared like I’d stolen her carrot patch. Got me thinkin’—what’s her day like? Up all night, dodgin’ cops, maybe dreamin’ of somethin’ better? “I’ll manage somehow,” she prolly mutters, like Gabita in the flick. Gutsy as hell, but damn, it’s bleak.

First off, I head outta my little place on Kék Golyó utca. Love that street, but it’s got its quirks. Like, why’s there always a random cat chillin’ on my porch? I swear, that cat thinks it owns the place. Anyway, I grab my trusty pig whistle and head to the market. Gotta get some grub for my swine, ya know?