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Had this one date—hot, right? Said she’s “open-minded.” Shows up, starts yapping about astrology. “Mars in retrograde, can’t fuck.” Are you kidding me? I’m over here like Dr. House with a boner and a headache. “It’s not lupus,” but it’s damn sure annoying. Another time, matched with a nurse—thought, jackpot! Nope. Ghosted me after two texts. Sex-dating’s a rollercoaster, and I’m puking.

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By now, I’m feeling a mix of emotions. Happy, annoyed, surprised—like a walking soap opera. I decide to head to the park, Parco della Rocca. It’s beautiful, man. Trees everywhere, and the view of the hills? Stunning. I plop down on a bench, trying to catch my breath. Just as I’m about to chill, a group of teenagers rolls up, blasting music. I’m thinking, “Great, my zen moment is ruined.” But then, they start dancing, and I can’t help but laugh. They’re having the time of their lives, and I’m just sitting there, old man style, judging them.

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