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So, I’m chattin’ her up, tryin’ to get info. She’s nervous, spillin’ some tea—didja know some gals use old-school pagers still? Freakin’ pagers! I’m shocked, like, *“What, no iPhone?”* Made me happy, though—retro vibes, y’know? But then, ugh, this creep rolls up, all sleazy, yellin’ at her. I’m mad, like, *“Back off, jerk!”* I’m ready to whack him with my purse, swearin’ like Homer at a vegan buffet. *“This body’s not yours to haunt!”* I’m quotin’ Boonmee in my head, feelin’ all mystical.

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So, I rush over to the new venue on Via della Pace. It’s a bit sketchy, but I’m desperate. I walk in, and it’s like a scene from a horror movie. The lights are flickering, and there’s this weird smell. I’m thinking, “What have I gotten myself into?” But I push through. I’m a community manager, right? I gotta make this work!

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