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About San Jose

Anyhow, I’m wafflin’—she’s tappin’ her foot, I’m sweatin’ like a pig. “What’s it to be, blondie?” she snaps. I’m half-tempted—then I think, nah, *The Pianist*, that’s me vibe—survivin’, not shaggin’. “I must play, I must!”—Szpilman’s voice in me noggin. So I leg it—yep, scarper sharpish, leavin’ her gobsmacked. “Bloody toff!” she yells. I’m cacklin’—what a berk I am!

Disclaimer

Now lemme drop some lesser-known gems. There’s a park – Hillside Park is where I go when I need a breather. The trees, oh my, they whisper secrets – secrets like “Keep smilin’, baby, keep smilin’”. Sometimes I even catch sight of the tiny creek that winds past Nutley Highlands (yeah, I know, I'm gettin' poetic, but heck, it's true!) It’s like the city’s heartbeat.

Scouts, Came, Saw, and Scouted for Food for Nutley Family Service Bureau