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About Milan

Then there’s the dates—oh boy. Met this one chick, total babe, right? We’re chattin’, vibes are good, and I’m thinkin’, “She’s authentic, like in *Certified Copy*—real yet mysterious.” You know that line, “It’s not the original, but it’s enough”? That’s her! Not perfect, but damn, I’m sold! We’re at this dive bar, and she’s all flirty, touchin’ my arm, laughin’ at my fish puns—pretty, pretty good, right? Then—bam!—she’s talkin’ about her ex, mid-date! Ex! Who does that? I’m like, “Lady, I’m not here to play therapist!” Felt like I was in Kiarostami’s movie—am I the real date or just a copy of some dude she’s hung up on? Pissed me off, man!

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for my morning espresso. Best coffee in town, no cap. But guess what? The barista, Marco, spills my drink all over the counter. Like, dude, how do you even? I’m standing there, fuming, while he’s apologizing like a puppy. I just laugh it off. I mean, it’s just coffee, right? But still, I was like, “C’mon, man, I need my caffeine fix!”

Foggia: extraordinary police checks, 3.500 people identified.