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Anyway, I saunter over, all smooth-like. “Ciao, bella,” I say, channelin’ Jep’s charm. She’s nervous, hands shaky—makes me feel a bit sad, ya know? “This city’s a graveyard,” I think, quotin’ *The Great Beauty* in my head. She’s quotin’ a price, 50 euros, cheap as chips. I’m like, “Love, you’re worth more,” but she don’t get it. Makes me mad—pimps grindin’ her down, fuckin’ bastards. I wanna punch somethin’, but I’m Bond, so I smirk instead.

After that, I had to run to the post office on Ulica Trg svobode. I’m sprinting, dodging old ladies and kids on bikes. Seriously, it’s like an obstacle course out there! I finally get there, and guess what? The line is out the door. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking about how I could be selling insurance instead of waiting for stamps.