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About Genoa

But then—then!—she starts talkin’ ‘bout “energy flow.” What in seven hells? I’m here for a rubdown, not a sermon! Made me mad, that. I don’t need chi or whatever—she’s not fixin’ my soul. “The point is—I’m tense!” I snap, channelin’ Larry’s whiny arse. She smirks—smirks!—and digs deeper. Oof, that hurt. But good hurt, y’know? Like when you drink too much and still feel clever.

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By now, it’s noon, and I’m running on fumes. I take a quick break outside on Via Sopraponte. The sun’s shining, and I see the mountains in the distance. It’s beautiful, ya know? But then, I hear this loud honking. It’s a car stuck in traffic. Classic Gavardo-Sopraponte. I can’t help but laugh.