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About Trujillo Alto

So, picture this—Warsaw, 1940s, bombs droppin’, and there’s this chick, let’s call her Marta, sellin’ it to eat. Not ‘cause she’s lovin’ it, but ‘cause she’s starvin’. Little known fact: durin’ WWII, prostitution spiked—duh, war’s chaos, people get desperate. Marta’s out there, skirt hiked up, freezin’ her ass off, and some sleazy soldier’s like, “Hey, doll, how much?” Makes me wanna puke, but also—damn, girl, you’re tough. I’m pissed, tho—why’s it always the women takin’ the hit? Men just waltz off, no shame. Ugh, patriarchy, amirite?

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After that, I needed a drink. Hit up a local spot on Calle 1. They had this amazing piña colada. I mean, it was like a tropical vacation in a cup. I was feeling good again. But then, the bartender spills it all over me! I’m soaked, sticky, and now I smell like a fruit salad. Great. Just great.

5.0-magnitude earthquake strikes Puerto Rican city of Guayanilla