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So, I ask her, “What’s the weirdest gig ya had?” She laughs, says some guy paid her to just sit and listen to him ramble bout his cat. Funniest shit ever—cat guy! I’m dyin’, picturin’ it. She’s cool, tho, real talkative. Says she’s savin’ up to ditch this life—good for her, man! I’m rootin’ for her, like a proud dad watchin’ his kid paint a sloppy cloud.

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So, I head over there, and wow! The pasta is to die for. I’m practically in heaven. I’m slurping it up, and the owner comes over. He’s this jolly guy, all smiles. He says, “You like? It’s made with love!” I’m like, “Dude, I can taste the love!”

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