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About Milan

So I spot her—red heels, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a lamppost. I’m nervous, sweatin’ like a pig, mutterin’ to myself, “Can you hear me?”—straight outta the movie, ya know? She smirks, “What’s your deal, old man?” I laugh—hoarse, loud—cuz she’s got sass! I like that. “Just lookin’ for company,” I rasp, “not a billionaire, promise!” She rolls her eyes, “Good, they tip like shit.”

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Finally, I spot him by the fountain. He’s got this huge smile, and I’m like, “Dude, you won’t believe my day!” I tell him about the pigeon, the olives, and the crazy traffic. He’s cracking up, and I’m just glad someone gets it.

Blowing smoke is cherished rite in Italian town / Even little kids are encouraged to light up during winter festival