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About San Antonio

Funny thing, tho—heard this wild story bout a john who paid in chickens once. Chickens! I’m dyin, yall, imaginin him cluckin up the stairs. Prolly smelled like a barn too—gross! Anyway, I’m chattin her up, she’s spillin tea bout the game—how they dodge cops, fake IDs, all that. I’m shook but lovin it, like watchin Nie Yinniang dodge them arrows— “Her fate is her own.”

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Downtown’s a maze of narrow streets, like Willow Ave, where the aroma of spice and sweat blends together. Always buzzing, ya know? And there's that river—Rib River—cutting through the park. I often watch it flow, like in The New World, wanderin’ in a mystic hush.

Chipotle to open first central Wisconsin location in fall