Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a Watchman in Corleone is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s blazin’ through my window on Via Roma. I’m like, “Great, another scorcher.” But hey, it’s Corleone, the heart of Sicily, so I roll with it.
First thing, I grab my coffee from that little bar on Piazza della Repubblica. You know the one? The one with the best arancini in town. I’m chattin’ with the barista, Marco. He’s always got some wild story. Today, he’s goin’ on about a cat that stole his sandwich. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a cat, not a mobster!” We both crack up.
Then, I head to my post. I’m stationed at the old castle, Castello di Corleone. It’s ancient, man. You can feel the history seepin’ outta the stones. I’m just chillin’, watchin’ the locals go by. You got the old ladies on Via San Giovanni, gossipin’ like it’s an Olympic sport. And the kids? They’re playin’ soccer in the street, kickin’ a ball like it’s the World Cup.
But then, BAM! Outta nowhere, a car screeches around the corner on Via della Libertà. I’m like, “What the heck?” It’s a delivery truck, and it’s swervin’ like it’s in a Fast & Furious movie. I jump up, ready to blow my whistle. But the driver? He just waves and keeps goin’. I’m thinkin’, “Dude, you’re gonna take out a gelato stand!”
Later, I’m takin’ a break, sittin’ on a bench near the fountain. It’s hot, and I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church. I pull out my sandwich, and guess what? A pigeon swoops down and snatches it! I’m like, “Seriously? Even the pigeons are out to get me?” I chase it off, but it’s too late. My lunch is gone.
Now I’m hungry and a bit cranky. I decide to stroll down to Via dei Mille. There’s this little trattoria, and they make the best pasta. I order a plate of spaghetti alla Norma. Man, it’s heavenly! I’m slurpin’ it down, and life’s good again.
But then, I hear shouting. I rush outside, and there’s a crowd gatherin’ near the old church, Chiesa Madre. Turns out, there’s a street performer doin’ some crazy tricks. He’s juggling fire! I’m like, “This is Corleone, not Vegas!” But the crowd loves it. I’m standin’ there, half-amazed, half-worried he’s gonna set his hair on fire.
As the sun starts settlin’, the vibe changes. The streets are lit up, and the whole place feels alive. I’m walkin’ back to my post, and I see a couple on Via Vittorio Emanuele, holdin’ hands and laughin’. It’s sweet, ya know? Makes ya believe in love or whatever.
But then, outta nowhere, I hear a loud crash. I sprint over to find a guy on a scooter who just wiped out. He’s okay, just a bit bruised. But his scooter? Total wreck. I help him up, and he’s like, “I’m fine, just my pride is hurt.” Classic!
Finally, I wrap up my shift. I’m exhausted but happy. Corleone’s wild, man. It’s got its quirks, its chaos, but it’s home. I head to the bar again, grab a drink, and toast to another crazy day. Here’s to Corleone, the city that never sleeps—well, except for the pigeons. They’re always napping!