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I’d be strollin’ downtown, mutterin’, “Hmm… where’s the action?” Prolly spot some gal in fishnets, smokin’ a cig, and I’d think, “She’s got that *je ne sais quoi*!” Like in the movie, when Adèle says, “I miss you, it hurts.” That’s me, missin’ somethin’ wild, but I ain’t even started yet! I’d be nervous, tho—heart poundin’, palms sweaty. “Marge, chill,” I’d tell myself, but nah, I’m a mess.

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First off, I hop on the bus, and it’s packed. Like, sardines in a can packed. I’m squished between this old dude who smells like herring and a kid blasting some weird Dutch rap. I’m like, “Dude, chill with the volume!” But whatever, I’m on my way to Volendam, so I just zone out.

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