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Now, lemme exagerate—imagine me, cowboy hat, boots, struttin’ up, “Ma’am, I’m the decider!” She’d probly laugh, say, “Decide on $100, cowboy!” I’d fumble my wallet—13 bucks spill out, typos in my brain, all flustered. Little story—heard ‘bout a hooker in Vegas once, took a guy’s Rolex, left him a note: “Time’s up, sucker!”—swear it’s true, wild west stuff! Makes ya wonder, who’s foolin’ who?

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Finally, I give up on writing and head to the Rocca Malatestiana. It’s this massive fortress, and I’m thinking, “This place has seen some stuff.” I climb up to the top, and the view is insane! You can see the whole city. I’m feeling all deep and philosophical, like, “What’s my purpose?” But then, I realize I’m just hungry again.

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