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So we talkin, and I’m thinkin, “Is this a dream within a dream?” Like Nolan’s flick, layers on layers, right? I ask her name—Candy, she says, and I laugh, loud as fuck. “Candy? For real? That’s some stripper cliché shit!” She rolls her eyes, and I’m dyin—humor in the grit, man, love that. “I must break you,” I tease, but she ain’t breakin, tough as nails. Kinda happy bout that—weak vibes ain’t my thing.

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First off, I hit up the local bakery on Kossuth Lajos utca. Best pastries ever! I grab a couple of those fluffy lángos, and I’m thinking, “Life is good.” But then, bam! I spill coffee all over my shirt. Classic me, right? I’m standing there, looking like a hot mess, and the baker just laughs. I mean, come on, dude, I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast here!

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