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About Genoa

So, picture this—me, sprawled out, oil drippin’, some jazzy tune playin’ soft. Hands glidin’ like they got a PhD in feel-good. I’m thinkin’, “This is livin’!”—kinda like when Charlotte says, “Let’s never come here again because it would never be as fun.” That’s the magic, y’all—it’s fleeting, sneaky, leaves ya wantin’ more. Ever tried it? Surprised me how it’s less bout the naughty and more bout the *whoa*. Like, my spine was singin’ hallelujah!

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After that, we head down to Via San Giovanni. I’m still grumpy about the dog. But then, I see this street performer. He’s playin’ the accordion, and it’s actually kinda good. I start to feel better. I toss him a couple of euros. He winks at me, and I’m like, “Yeah, I’m a big spender.”

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