Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a telephone operator in Budrio is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First call comes in at 8 AM. It’s this dude, totally frantic, like he’s just seen a ghost or something. “I can’t find my cat!” he yells. I’m like, “Bro, it’s a cat, not a lost treasure.” But I get it, I mean, who wouldn’t freak out? I tell him to check around Via Garibaldi. Cats love hiding in bushes, ya know?
Then, I get another call. This lady’s all worked up about the market on Piazza della Libertà. Apparently, they ran outta fresh pasta. I mean, c’mon! In Budrio? That’s like a crime against humanity! I’m tryin’ to calm her down, but she’s like, “I need my tortellini!” I’m like, “Lady, I can’t make pasta appear outta thin air!”
By noon, I’m already on edge. My head’s spinning with all these calls. I swear, I’ve heard “Can you help me?” a million times. I’m like, “Sure, but can you help me with my sanity?”
Then, the unexpected hits. I get a call from a guy who’s stuck in a tree. Yup, you heard that right. He’s on Via Roma, and he’s like, “I thought I could climb it, but now I’m just... stuck.” I’m dying laughing. I mean, who climbs a tree in Budrio? I tell him to just shimmy down, but he’s all, “I’m scared!” I’m like, “Dude, you’re not a squirrel!”
After that, I finally get a break. I step outside for some fresh air. Budrio’s so pretty, man. The old buildings, the little shops, and the vibe is just... nice. But then, I see this guy on a bike, and he’s zooming down Via Mazzini like he’s in the Tour de France. He hits a bump and flies off! I’m like, “Is this a comedy show?”
Back at my desk, I’m swamped again. A lady’s complaining about the noise from the festival at Parco della Resistenza. I mean, c’mon! It’s a festival! Let people have fun! But she’s all, “I can’t hear myself think!” I’m like, “Maybe you should try listening to some music instead?”
Then, the best part of the day happens. I get a call from a kid, maybe 10 years old. He’s like, “I just wanted to say thank you for helping my mom!” I’m like, “Aww, kid, you just made my day!” He’s all giggly and cute, and I’m thinking, “This is why I do this job.”
But then, bam! Another call. This time, it’s a guy who’s lost his wallet. He’s freaking out, and I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a wallet!” But he’s all, “It had my life in it!” I’m like, “Okay, but did it have your cat?”
Finally, the day winds down. I’m exhausted but happy. Budrio’s been wild today. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried (okay, maybe not cried, but you get it). I’m ready to head home, but not before I grab a gelato from that little shop on Via della Libertà.
As I walk home, I think about all the craziness. Budrio’s got its quirks, but it’s my home. And even on the craziest days, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.