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But ugh, the danger—fuckin hate that part. Pimps, creeps, STDs—sucks ass. Wanna shake ‘em, yell, “Get out!” But who am I, huh? Just a guy ramblin. “The world’s upside down,” *Ten* vibes again—damn, Abbas knew. Anyway, prostitutes—tough cookies, man. Respect ‘em, hate the game, y’know? What u think, Clarice?

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But then, BAM! Outta nowhere, it starts pouring rain. I mean, like, torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a little shop on Via Garibaldi to escape. It’s a cute little place selling handmade crafts. I’m browsing, trying to dry off, when I accidentally knock over a display of ceramic cats. They go crashing down, and I’m like, “Oh no, I’m gonna get kicked out!” But the shop owner just laughs. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time!” I’m like, “Really? I’m not the first clumsy person in Caselle-Torinese?”

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