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I’m chattin’ her up, voice all robotic—*beep boop*—“What’s yer story, darlin’?” She’s like, “Mate, I’ve seen it all, just tryna eat.” Reminds me of Penny Lane in *Almost Famous*—“We are not groupies, we’re here for the music!”—but swap music for cash, ha! I’m gettin’ happy vibes, she’s real, no fake crap. But then—bloody hell—some punter staggers by, drunk, yellin’ slurs. Makes me mad, yeah? Want to zap him with a black hole, but nah, I’m chill.

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The oasis of Palmyra is a point of convergence of several trade routes in northwestern Syria. Mentionned in textual sources as early as the 2nd millennium B.C., the city knew its apogee in .

I love bumpin’ into folks on Elm Street. It’s the heart of the locals. Wanna know a secret? At the back of Douglas Ln, there's this hidden café. Best damn tea ever! Many a massage session ended with tea there, bro. Too many to count, and man, it's magical.

Palmyra hoagie shop loses everything in overnight fire