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About Palembang

So, picture this – dusty road, me in my John Deere, haulin’ hay, and there’s this lil’ ol’ brothel off Highway 9. Ain’t no secret ‘round these parts, been there since my grandpappy’s days. Heard tell it was a stop for cattle drivers back in ’38 – them boys needed a break, and whoo-wee, they got it! Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ bout them ol’ timers tradin’ steer for a quick roll in the hay. Literally, hay! Ain’t that a hoot?

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. Like, monsoon-level rain. I’m talking buckets! We dash outta the warung, but it’s too late. We’re soaked. I’m laughing, but also kinda mad. Why does it always rain when I’m out?