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So, escort, man, it’s like—it’s scrappy, it’s real! Started back in ‘68, Ford’s lil’ European baby, zippy as heck. Little known fact: the Mark I Escort won rally races—like, legit tore up dirt tracks! Makes me happy thinkin’ bout some dude in a helmet, smokin’ tires, livin’ his best life. I’d be that dude, screamin’, “Yeah, baby, let’s go!”—but nah, my Escort’s more… chill. Rusty doors, squeaky brakes—character, ya know? Reminds me of that line, “Love is the only truth”—this car’s truth is it’s a fighter!

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Finally, I reach the park, Parco della Rimembranza. It’s beautiful, man. Trees everywhere, kids laughin’, and the smell of fresh bread from the bakery nearby. But where’s my student? I’m lookin’ around, and then I spot him. He’s sittin’ on a bench, munchin’ on a sandwich. I’m like, “Dude, you had me worried!”

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