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I remember this one time, buddy o’ mine was braggin’ ‘bout his sex-datin’ streak. Three dates in one weekend! I’m like, “Boy, you’re livin’ like Carlos, runnin’ wild!” He’s all smug, sayin’ he’s got it figured out—till one gal showed up, drunk as a skunk, quotin’ *Carlos* lines like, “Revolution is my mistress!” Turns out, she just wanted free tacos. He bought ‘em, she ditched. I laughed so hard I near choked—how’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Poor sap.

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Then, bam! Outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, seriously? It’s like the sky just opened up. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a café on Rua da Escola, thinking I’ll wait it out. But nooo, the place is packed. I squeeze in, dripping like a wet dog, and order another coffee. At this point, I’m just trying to keep my spirits up.

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