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About Milan

Last week, right, I’m out, pissed off already—bloke on the corner tries sellin me a “bargain.” Bargain? You idiot sandwich! Looked like she’d been dragged through a bin—fuckin grim. I’m yellin, “Get outta my face, you muppet!” Made me ragey, mate, proper fumin—wastin my time on rubbish. Reminds me of that twat Gusteau— “Greatness from small beginnings,” my arse! Small beginnings don’t mean crusty tarts, yeah?

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Later, I’m shelving books on Via Garibaldi. I find this old, dusty novel. It’s like, ancient! I blow off the dust and read the first line. It’s about love and loss. I’m like, “Wow, this is deep.” I get all emotional, standing there in the aisle, thinking about life.

Wine, dine with Italian count at Milford’s Benvenuto