Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a stove-maker in Calvi-Risorta ain’t for the faint of heart. Woke up late, as usual. My alarm? Yeah, it decided to take a day off. So, I’m rushin’ outta bed, trippin’ over my cat, Gnocchi. That little furball’s got a knack for bein’ in the way.
So, I finally get to the shop on Via Roma. It’s a cozy little place, you know? I’ve got my stoves lined up like soldiers ready for battle. But today? Today was a whole different story.
First off, I get a call from a customer. This dude, Marco, he’s all like, “Hey, my stove’s broken!” I’m thinkin’, “Dude, you just bought it last week!” Turns out, he tried to cook pasta and forgot to add water. Classic Marco, right? I mean, who forgets water? So, I’m like, “Bro, you gotta pay attention!” But I fix it anyway. Gotta keep the customers happy, ya know?
Then, I head out for lunch. I stroll down Corso Garibaldi, and man, the sun’s blazin’. I stop by this little café, La Dolce Vita. Best espresso in town, hands down. I order my usual, and the barista, Lucia, gives me that smile. You know the one. Makes ya feel like a million bucks. But then, outta nowhere, this pigeon swoops down and lands right on my head! I’m flappin’ my arms like a madman, and everyone’s laughin’. Great, just great.
After that, I’m back at the shop, tryin’ to focus. But then, my buddy Antonio drops by. He’s always got some wild story. Today, he’s tellin’ me about this time he tried to fix his own stove. Spoiler alert: it exploded. I’m laughin’ so hard, I almost drop a pot. “Dude, leave the stoves to the pros!” I tell him.
But then, the real drama hits. I get a call from the landlord. He’s like, “You owe rent!” I’m thinkin’, “Dude, I just paid last week!” Turns out, he’s been mixin’ up my payments with the bakery down the street. I’m ready to lose it. “I’m a stove-maker, not a baker!” I yell. But he’s not havin’ it.
So, I grab my tools and head to the bakery on Via San Giovanni. I’m ready to confront this guy. But when I get there, the smell of fresh bread hits me. I mean, who can be mad with that aroma? I walk in, and the baker, Maria, is like, “Hey, you look like you need a pastry!” I can’t resist. I grab a cornetto, and suddenly, life’s good again.
Finally, I head back to my shop. I’m exhausted but happy. I sit down, and Gnocchi jumps on my lap. I’m petting him, thinkin’ about how crazy today was. Calvi-Risorta, man. It’s got its quirks, but it’s home.
As the sun sets over the hills, I realize, despite the chaos, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. I mean, who else gets to make stoves and deal with pigeons? Only in Calvi-Risorta, right?