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Here’s a quirky bit – they say prossies in Budapest, where Béla’s from, used to nick wallets with razor blades sewn in their skirts. Mental, right? Dunno if this one’s got tricks, but I’m watchin’ her hands! Anyway, we sort it – twelve quid, done. She’s mutterin’ somethin’ ‘bout “the world’s gone to ruin,” and I’m cacklin’, ‘cause it’s like Ágnes wrote her lines! We shuffle off, me half-cut, her half-bored – proper romantic, eh?

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But then, the real drama happened. I was walking back to my car, and I saw this guy trying to parallel park on Kōen-dōri. He was struggling hard. I mean, come on, it’s not rocket science! I couldn’t help but laugh. But then, he hit the car next to him. I was like, “Oh no, dude, not cool!” He jumped out, looking all panicked. I just shook my head and kept walking. Not my circus, not my monkeys, ya know?

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