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About Palermo

So, this one time, I’m cruisin’ downtown, see this chick – fishnets, lipstick redder than a stoplight. She’s workin’ it, dodgin’ cops like Maya dodgin’ red tape in the flick. “You can’t handle the truth!” I yell in my head, laughin’ – ‘cause who can? She’s got guts, man, real guts. Pissed me off though – some sleazy dude hagglin’ her price down. Cheap bastard! I wanted to deck him, but nah, I’m just watchin’, sippin’ my coffee.

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I’m laughing, but also kinda annoyed. Why do tourists think they own the place? Anyway, I keep walking, and I bump into this old lady selling fresh fish. She’s got the biggest smile, and she starts chatting me up in Italian. I can’t understand half of what she’s saying, but her energy is infectious. She hands me a piece of fish and says, “Try it!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m a vegetarian!” But I take it anyway. It’s surprisingly good.

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