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Sometimes I reckon—d’ye think they’re like David? Programmed fer yer heart, but never truly yers? “Where the dreams come from,” Joe says—makes me wonder ‘bout their dreams, too. Sad, that. Still, they’re crafty as a fox in a henhouse! Slippery, sharp—outsmart ye if ye ain’t careful, savvy?

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So, I’m trying to shake it off, right? I head over to the local market on Via Garibaldi. Fresh fruits, veggies, all that good stuff. I’m eyeing some tomatoes, thinking about making a killer sauce later. But then, I see this old lady, Nonna Rosa, haggling like a pro. She’s got this fierce look, and I’m like, “Damn, I wanna be her when I grow up.” She gets her tomatoes for half the price! I’m impressed.

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