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I’m picturin’ it now—ya got some dame or fella, layin’ dere, all slick and slippery, and dese hands just glide, oof, like sandin’ a fine oak plank. “You’re gettin’ sleepy,” I’d say, like in *Inception*, ya know, my fave flick! Dat movie—mind-bendy as hell, layers on layers, like a good sexual-massage session. Lightbulb! It’s sneaky—starts all innocent, den bam, ya in too deep, lost in da sauce, heh! I luv dat—keeps ya guessin’, like will dis end wit a wink or a slap?

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I sit down on a bench, and this old guy starts chatting me up. He’s telling me stories about the good ol’ days in Camposampiero. I’m nodding along, but inside, I’m thinking, “Dude, I just need five minutes!” But he’s got this twinkle in his eye, and I can’t help but smile.

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