Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a ratcatcher in Mesoraca is no walk in the park. I woke up this mornin’ with the sun blarin’ through my window on Via Roma. Thought, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! What a joke.
First stop, I hit up the old market on Piazza della Repubblica. You know, the one where the old ladies sell their homemade pasta? Yeah, that place. I’m just tryin’ to grab some breakfast, right? But then I see this massive rat scurryin’ under the stalls. I mean, this thing was the size of a small dog! I’m like, “Not today, buddy!” So I whip out my trusty trap.
But guess what? The rat’s too smart. It dodges me like it’s in the Olympics or somethin’. I’m chasin’ it through the market, knockin’ over tomatoes and scarin’ the bejeezus outta the old ladies. They’re yellin’, “Mamma mia! What’s goin’ on?” I’m just tryin’ to catch a rat, people!
Finally, I corner it near Via Garibaldi. I’m feelin’ like a hero, right? But then, bam! I trip over a crate. I go down hard. My knee hits the cobblestones, and I’m like, “Great, now I’m a ratcatcher with a busted knee.” The rat? It just looks at me like, “You really thought you could catch me?” Then it scurries off. Ugh!
So, I’m limpin’ around, tryin’ to shake it off. I head over to the old church on Via Cavour. Figured I could use a little divine intervention, ya know? But as I’m sittin’ there, I overhear this couple arguing. They’re goin’ at it about who left the window open. I’m thinkin’, “Dude, you’re in Mesoraca! Focus on the real issues, like the rat problem!”
After that, I decide to grab a coffee at my favorite spot, Caffè Centrale. Best espresso in town, hands down. I’m sittin’ there, tryin’ to relax, when I spot a kid with a slingshot. He’s aim’n at pigeons! I’m like, “What’s wrong with you, kid?” But he just laughs and says, “They’re just rats with wings!” I can’t even argue with that logic.
Then, outta nowhere, I get a call. It’s Mrs. Rossi from Via Dante. She’s freakin’ out about a rat in her kitchen. I’m like, “Lady, I just had a rough morning!” But I can’t say no. So I rush over, knee still throbbin’.
When I get there, it’s chaos. The rat’s in the pantry, munchin’ on her pasta. I’m thinkin’, “This rat has no respect!” I set up my trap, but it’s like a game of chess. The rat’s movin’ like it’s got a plan. I’m sweatin’ bullets, and Mrs. Rossi’s yellin’ at me to hurry up.
Finally, I manage to catch it. I’m feelin’ like a champ! But then, as I’m leavin’, I step in a puddle. My shoes are soaked. I’m like, “Really? This is how my day ends?”
So, I head back home, exhausted. I’m walkin’ down Via Roma, thinkin’ about how crazy today was. I mean, who knew ratcatching could be this wild? I get home, kick off my shoes, and just collapse on the couch.
Mesoraca, you’re a beautiful mess. Full of surprises, chaos, and the occasional giant rat. But hey, it’s my city. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Even if it means chasin’ rats all day.