5 /5
Média de Avaliação
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It's Monday and I can't go to the hail room. The workroom, which is reworked for hail damage, is guarded by an older gentleman who knows no mercy. I'm too early, just half an hour. Since my car was supposed to appear “washed” at the time, and the waiting time in the washing street fluctuates between “a time” and aeons, I started early and got “at the moment”. So I am here now – along with the input control. “Can I go in?” “Now!” “I would put myself at the edge and read another round.” “Now!” After that there was something that could be interpreted with *no stop traffic on the ground*. What are you doing? A look into the surroundings had bad feelings. There are factory halls of all kinds and...