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About Bologna

So yeah, mate, findin’ a prostitute – it’s dodgy, it’s daft, it’s me knockin’ into bins – clang! – tryna look cool. Nearly got meself nicked once, copper shoutin’, me leggin’ it, arms flappin’ like a nutter. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it felt like a bleedin’ chase scene! “I didn’t see him,” I pant, movie-style, all dramatic. Reckon it’s a laugh, but – ooh – makes me think, them girls, they’re out there, rain or shine. Respect, y’know? Anyway, gotta dash – me tea’s burnin’! Heh, typical!

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So, I finally make it to the market. It’s packed! People everywhere, haggling over tomatoes and olives. I’m just there, tryin’ to grab some fresh basil. I mean, what’s a gardener without basil, right? But then, I see this old lady, Nonna Rosa, and she’s got this huge basket of the freshest veggies. I’m like, “Nonna, you’re killin’ me!” She just laughs and offers me a ripe tomato. I swear, it was the best tomato I’ve ever had. Sweet, juicy, like a burst of sunshine. Made me forget about the cobblestone incident.

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