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About Catania

I’m sittin’ there, gettin’ me back kneaded, thinkin’, “Is it ’cos I is black?” Nah, fam, it’s ’cos I’m knackered! Work’s been a right mare. This bird’s hands – magic, innit? Like Tony from *Brooklyn*, tryna impress. “I’d do anything for her,” he’d reckon, oilin’ me up. Makes me happy, bruv – tension’s gone, boom! But once, yeah, some geezer pressed too hard – ouch! Got me ragin’, “Mate, ease up, yeah?” Nearly sparked him out, swear down.

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I help him look around, and we check the bar down the street. No luck. But then, I spot this old lady on Via Mazzini. She’s got his wallet! Turns out, she thought it was hers. I’m like, “Lady, you can’t just take stuff!” But she’s sweet, so I let it slide. Marco’s over the moon. I’m just glad I didn’t have to fight anyone.