Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a butcher in Volvera is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinkin’ about the fresh cuts I gotta prep. I live on Via Roma, which is a pretty chill spot, but lemme tell ya, the morning traffic is a nightmare. Like, why do people even bother?
I get to the shop on Via Garibaldi, and it’s already buzzing. The smell of fresh bread from the bakery next door is killin’ me. I’m like, “Dude, I’m a butcher, not a baker!” But I can’t help it. I’m drooling. Anyway, I start slicing some prosciutto, and this old lady comes in. She’s a regular, always wants the best cuts. I’m like, “Sure, Nonna, I got you.” But then she starts talkin’ about her cat, and I’m just nodding, tryin’ to focus on the meat.
Then, outta nowhere, the power goes out! I’m like, “What the heck?!” The fridge is gonna spoil everything! I’m runnin’ around like a headless chicken, tryin’ to save the goods. I swear, I almost tripped over a box of sausages. Can you imagine? A butcher trippin’ over sausages? Classic!
Finally, the lights flicker back on, and I’m like, “Phew!” But then, I hear this commotion outside. I peek outta the window on Via Mazzini, and there’s a parade! A freakin’ parade! I mean, who schedules a parade on a Tuesday? I’m tryin’ to work here! But then I see the floats, and they’re all colorful and loud. I can’t help but smile. Kids are runnin’ around, people are laughin’. It’s like a scene from a movie.
So, I take a break, grab a sandwich from the deli down the street. Best salami in town, no joke. I sit outside, watchin’ the parade, and I’m thinkin’, “This is life, man.” But then, I hear this loud crash. I look over, and some dude just knocked over a whole cart of gelato! I’m like, “Noooo! Not the gelato!” People are diving in, scoopin’ it up like it’s the last ice cream on Earth.
After the parade, I get back to work, and I’m feelin’ pumped. I’m chattin’ with customers, makin’ jokes, and then this guy walks in. He’s all fancy, suit and tie, lookin’ like he just stepped outta a fashion magazine. He asks for a filet mignon, and I’m like, “Sure thing, Mr. Fancy Pants.” But then he starts complainin’ about the price. I’m like, “Dude, it’s quality meat! You can’t put a price on perfection!”
By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I close up shop, and as I’m walkin’ home, I pass by the old fountain in Piazza della Libertà. It’s one of my favorite spots. I sit there for a minute, just takin’ it all in. The lights are twinklin’, and I can hear the laughter from the nearby café.
Volvera, man. It’s wild. It’s chaotic. But it’s home. And even on the craziest days, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I mean, who else gets to slice meat and watch parades in the same day? Only in Volvera, baby!