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One more thing… ever notice how sex-dating’s like Llewyn’s gigs? You show up, hope it works, sometimes it’s gold, sometimes ya bomb. This one time – swear to god – matched with a gal who brought her CAT to the date. Cat just stared at me, judgin’. Freaked me out, but damn, she was hot. Took the risk, worth it.

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Finally, I find my way back down, and I’m starving. I hit up this little trattoria on Via Nazionale. The owner, Giovanni, is a character. He’s got this big mustache and a laugh that could wake the dead. I order pasta alla Norma, and it’s like a hug in a bowl. I’m in food heaven. But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my editor. “Need your review ASAP!” Ugh, can’t a critic enjoy a meal in peace?

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