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“Remember Sammy Jankis,” I says, quotin’ Lenny—meanin’, don’t be dumb! She’s still yammerin’ bout “find a prostitute” like it’s a dang stock tip. I’m thinkin’, “Lord, gimme strength, this gal’s dumber’n a bag of hammers.” Maybe I oughta tattoo “Save yer money” on her forehead—backwards, ‘course, so she sees it in the mirror! Ha! That’d be a hoot.

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So, I head back to the workshop, thumb still throbbing. I’m trying to focus, but my mind keeps wandering. I start thinking about how Akureyri is like this hidden gem. It’s got the vibe of a small town but with all the cool stuff. Like, we’ve got the Akureyri Art Museum, which is dope. And the nightlife? Don’t even get me started. I once saw a guy do karaoke on Hafnarstræti, and it was the worst and best thing ever.

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