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About Taraz

I’m cruisin’ downtown, feelin’ all antsy. Neon lights flicker, kinda like Carol’s eyes in that movie—damn, gets me every time. “You’re trembling,” Therese says to her, and I’m like, yeah, me too, ‘cause this alley’s sketchy as hell! Saw this chick, leather skirt, smokin’ a cig—total vibe. But then some creep rolls up, yellin’ prices like it’s a freakin’ auction. Pissed me off, man! Who does that?

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First stop, the market on Abay Street. I swing by to grab some breakfast. You know, the usual: some kazy and bread. I’m munchin’ away when I see this old dude, probably 80, trying to haggle over a cucumber. Like, c’mon man, it’s a cucumber, not a gold bar! I chuckle, but then he looks at me like I’m the devil. I’m like, “Chill, grandpa, it’s just a veggie!”

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