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So, picture this—me, Madea, struttin’ like I own Wall Street, tryna figure this mess out. I’m thinkin’, “This some high-class nonsense right here!” You got girls postin’ ads online, slick as Jordan Belfort sellin’ stocks. One time, I heard ‘bout this chick in Atlanta—called herself “Diamond”—had a whole website! Reviews and all, like she a dang Yelp restaurant! I hollered, “Halleluyer! She got five stars for what?!” Made me madder than a wet hen—why folks out here ratin’ THAT? But I was impressed too, gotta admit. She was hustlin’ harder than Belfort snortin’—you know what—off a table!

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Finally, I get to my first job on Koshigoe Street. This lady, Mrs. Tanaka, bless her heart, wants a new window in her tea shop. I walk in, and it’s like stepping into a time machine. The smell of matcha hits me, and I’m like, “Yesss!” But then, she shows me the window. It’s a mess! Cracked, foggy, and I’m pretty sure it’s been there since the Edo period. I’m thinkin’, “Lady, you need a miracle, not just a glazier.”

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