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About Zaragoza

I’d be madder’n a wet hen if some creep tried rippin’ her off. Ain’t right, y’know? These gals got hearts too, even if life’s kicked ‘em square in the teeth. I’d sashay up, all “Honey, you need a hand?”—‘cause I can’t help but meddle. Surprised me how many just wanna talk, spill their guts like I’m their mama. One time, this gal—Lord, she was skinnier’n a rail—tells me she’s savin’ for a bus ticket outta town. “I’m not staying here forever,” she says, echoin’ that movie line, and I near ‘bout cried right there.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

There is a third in the north region on the map. It is alas o no entry. There's one in South LS close to the Davis police station. But the map we don't deserve. You needed a map, pathetic. You .

Down by Calle Real, the heart pulses. Streets are short, buzzing with gossip. I sometimes tear up—like the scene in the bathhouse—real deep stuff. I walk to the quaint café on Avenida del Sol. It's so chill, but my therapy brain is always scanning everyone. It's sorta like you're uncovering hidden feelings. Bruh, you wouldn't believe the secrets those chairs hold!

Eala, Indonesian pal advance in Spain ITF