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About Caguas

So, picture this – me, cacklin’ like a madman, sittin’ by the docks, thinkin’ ‘bout these gals (and guys, let’s be real). They’re hustlin’, survivin’, dodgin’ pigs and creeps. Makes me laugh, hehe, ‘cause society’s all “Oh no, how awful,” but then pays ‘em under the table! Hypocrisy, mate, gets me ragin’ – wanna smash somethin’ when I see that! Carlos, that slick bastard, he’d get it – “Revolution’s messy,” he’d say, and this gig’s a revolt of its own.

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First stop? La Calle 1. I needed coffee, like, yesterday. I hit up my fave spot, Café Candelaria. The barista, this dude named Luis, he’s always got a smile. But today? Nah, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Turns out, the espresso machine broke. I mean, c’mon! How do you run a café without espresso? I was ready to throw a fit, but then he offered me a cortadito. Sweetened the deal, ya know?

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