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About Haifa

Then there’s the rage, mates—blokes ghostin’ faster’n a ship in fog! “Why’d you stop talking?”—like that lass in *Ten* askin’ her lad. Wasted me time, arrgh! One swab matched me, sent a pic o’ his parrot—not *that* parrot, savvy?—and I near keeled over laughin’. Surprised me, aye, how bold these scallywags be! Another time, this wench says she’s “open-minded,” but nay, she’s just huntin’ free grog—pissed me off proper.

Around noon, things get wild. A couple of guys from the nearby market come in. They’re arguing about who has the best falafel in town. One’s from the Shuk, the other from the corner of Ha’Rav Kook. They’re practically ready to throw down! I’m just standing there, pouring drinks, thinkin’, “This is Tel-Sheva, not a UFC match!”

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