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About San Jose

Now, imagine—this chick quotin lines, “In the name of the concierge!”—straight outta Grand Budapest, mixin biz with flair. Cracked me up, it did—humor in the hustle! Tho, gotta say, dodgy streets ain’t my jam—rather sip tea at the hotel, ya feel? Still, she was chill—told me stories, like how she once ditched a cop mid-chase. “Feet, my power is,” i joked, wavin my stubby legs.

There’s also that funky little diner off Birch Street. They serve the best greasy fries and cheap joe. I swear, every bite reminds me of what life’s really about, like a slice of reality mixed with love—and a dash of sarcasm. Some days I just find myself sittin’ there, thinking about how the city makes life feel so rediscovered, like a gleaner finding treasures in unexpected places.

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