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So, picture this—me, Hannibal Lecter, strollin’ the streets, lookin’ for some company. Not to eat ‘em, mind ya—well, maybe a nibble. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but a gal’s gotta have some fun too, right? I’m peekin’ at these dames, all dolled up, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Makes me happy, seein’ ‘em strut—confidence, power, ya dig? But then, ugh, the creeps lurkin’ nearby—pisses me off. Slimy bastards thinkin’ they own the night. Makes me wanna serve ‘em up with a nice Chianti.

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After that mini heart attack, I finally get into the groove. I’m proofreading like a boss, but then I hear this commotion outside. I peek out, and there’s a parade! A freakin’ parade! In the middle of Calle de la Libertad! I’m thinking, “What’s happening? Did I miss a memo?”

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