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Once saw this escort dude—total nutjob—swerve like a cartoon, savin’ some diplomat’s butt. Laughed my tail off! “Fate has brought us together,” I muttered, munchin’ a carrot. Surprised me how chill he was after—pro skills, doc. Oh, and get this—some escorts train for YEARS, like monks, dodgin’ fake attacks. Ain’t that bonkers? Makes me wanna hop in, yell, “I’m the Green Destiny!”—y’know, be the star.

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So, I’m trudging down Bryggen, the old wharf. It’s beautiful, all those colorful wooden houses. But today? They looked like they were crying too. I’m like, “C’mon, even the buildings are sad?” I stop for coffee at a little café on Torgallmenningen. Best coffee ever, but the barista? Total grump. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just coffee, not rocket science.” He rolls his eyes. I mean, chill, man.

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