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About Haifa

So, I spot her—legs long, eyes sharp, leanin’ on a wall like she owns it. Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—happy as a kid with candy, but pissed too, ‘cause why’s this so damn hard? Walk up, voice low, “Hey, darlin’, you workin’?” She smirks—*smirks!*—like she’s Simin judgin’ Nader in court. “Depends,” she says, all sassy. Surprised me, that sass—thought she’d be tired, broken maybe. Nope, she’s runnin’ this show.

After that, I decided to stroll down Al-Jazeera Street. It’s got this vibe, man. Street vendors everywhere, selling everything from fresh fruits to random trinkets. I saw this old guy selling these weird-looking spices. I asked him what they were for, and he just laughed. “For life, my friend!” he said. I mean, what does that even mean? But I bought some anyway. Gotta spice up my life, right?

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