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About San Juan

What’d shock me most? How normal it’d feel. Like, she’s just chattin’ about her day—traffic sucked, rent’s due. I’d be noddin’, thinkin’, “This ain’t so bad.” Maybe I’d tip extra—cashier life’s tough, I get it. But if she tried rippin’ me off? Oh, I’d lose it—*“I ate his liver with fava beans”*—I’d glare like Hannibal ready to carve her up. Kidding, sorta. Probs just storm out, call her a twat.

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I head over to the plaza, where the locals are hanging out. They’re all talking about the auction, and I’m just soaking it all in. The vibe is electric. I love this place. The streets, the people, the chaos—it’s all part of the charm.

Puerto Rican community proud of indigenous roots