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About Trujillo Alto

I’m fired up, yeah—heart racin’. “Who controls the streets?” I’m thinkin’, quotin’ Carlos in my head—“I am the one who knocks!”—but nah, mate, it’s them. The girls, the pimps, the whole damn system. Saw this one bird—legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Fancy a chat?” she goes, all sly. I’m like—bloody hell, she’s bold! Made me happy, that—takes guts, don’t it? But then—anger hits. Why’s she gotta do this? World’s a right mess, innit?

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After that, I decided to take a break. I strolled down to Plaza de Gurabo. Man, that place is the heart of the city. Kids were playing, old folks were gossiping, and the smell of empanadillas filled the air. I grabbed one from that little stand by the fountain. Best decision ever! I mean, who doesn’t love fried dough filled with goodness?

Centeno's Tire builds loyal network in Puerto Rico