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About Fintas

Me, I roll up, see them neon lights—damn, they bright! Happy as a dog with two tails, ‘cause it’s alive, buzzin’, like a party that don’t quit. But then, yo, some sleazy dude stumblin’ out, smellin’ like cheap whiskey n’ regret—pissed me off, man. “Why you messin’ up the vibe?!” I yell in my head. Ain’t no class, just cash, splashin’ it on some quick thrill. “You’re too late,” like Ida sayin’—time’s up, fool, you spent.

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But then, as I’m leavin’, I bump into this old friend, Ahmed. We used to hang out back in the day. He’s all about that fitness life now, lookin’ like a Greek god. I’m over here, still rockin’ my “I love carbs” shirt. We catch up, and it’s all good vibes until he mentions this new gym on Al-Masjid Street. Apparently, it’s got everything—weights, yoga, even a smoothie bar. I’m like, “Great, just what I need. Another place to feel bad about my life choices.”

Al-Qadisiya eyes redemption against Al-Fahaheel