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But then – ugh – this creep rolls up, all sweaty, tryna haggle her down to 20. Pissed me off, man, I’m like, “Mate, she ain’t a fuckin flea market!” Wanted to gut him, serve him up with chianti, ya feel me? “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter, glarin at him. She’s crackin up, says, “You’re weird, I like it.” Happy as hell, I am – rare vibe, that.

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Turns out, there’s this street fair. Food stalls everywhere! I’m talking about varenyky, borscht, and all that good stuff. My stomach’s growling like a bear. I’m like, “Forget the diet, I’m diving in!” So I grab a plate of varenyky, and oh man, they were heavenly. I could’ve eaten a hundred.

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