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About Naples

So, we’re hagglin’, and I’m throwin’ out lines—“Groovy, baby, let’s make it quick!”—but truth is, I’m a bit gutted. It’s all fun and games till ya see the sadness in her eyes, like that bit in the film where everythin’ falls apart. Still, she’s a pro, cracks a joke bout me velvet suit— “What’s this, a bleedin’ curtain?”—and I’m cacklin’ like a nutter. Gotta love the humor, keeps it light.

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Then, around 5 PM, the after-work crowd starts rolling in. You got the regulars, like old Mr. Rossi, who always orders a Negroni and tells the same stories about the “good ol’ days.” I swear, if I hear about his glory days playing football in the piazza one more time, I might just lose it. But hey, he’s a sweet old guy, so I just nod and smile.

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