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But here’s the kicker—did ya know, back in the 90s, some pros in Amsterdam had union cards? Friggin wild, right? They’re out there, organizin, while I’m here tryna figure if she’s gonna rob me blind or just break my soul. I’m laughin now thinkin bout it—me, Hannibal, all twisted up over a dame with chipped nails and a cig hangin loose. “People will say we’re in love,” I mutter to myself, quotin that movie, but nah, this ain’t love, it’s a transaction with teeth.

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Anyway, I’m chugging my coffee, and I decide to hit the market at Pasar Loa-Janan. It’s always a wild scene there. People yelling, vendors hawking their goods, and the smell of fried stuff everywhere. I’m talking about a sensory overload. I’m dodging folks left and right, trying not to spill my drink.

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