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About Florence

So, sex-dating—apps like Tinder, Bumble, whatever. Buncha horny idiots sendin’ dick pics and “u up?” at 2 a.m. Hate it. Reminds me of that movie I love—*Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring*. You know, the monk haulin’ that stone up the hill? That’s sex-dating. Draggin’ your baggage, hopin’ for somethin’ pure, but nah—lust just screws ya. “What you take, you carry,” the movie says. Damn right. You swipe, you bang, you regret. Cycle of misery.

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Then, I swing by the market on Piazza della Libertà. Man, the smells! Fresh bread, cheese, and those pastries—don’t even get me started. I grab a cornetto, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, knocks my coffee all over my shirt. I’m like, “Seriously?! I just got this!” I’m fuming, but then I see the kid’s face. He’s all wide-eyed and apologetic. Can’t stay mad at that, right? So I just laugh it off.

Park named after Sister Anna Bonfanti, FMA missionary