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About Jerusalem

Oh, and don’t be a cheap bastard—tip her good! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Motherfucker, don’t haggle like it’s a flea market!” This ain’t no movie script—it’s real life, and *Stories We Tell* taught me—everybody’s got layers, man! One time, I saw this dude tryin’ to lowball—girl just walked off, left him standin’ there like a punk. Hilarious shit—serves him right!

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So, I step outta my apartment on HaShalom Street, and it’s like the sun is mocking me. It’s blazing hot, like, “Hey, you wanna melt?” I’m sweating buckets, and I’m already late for a meeting at the local café, Café Netivot. I sprint down the street, dodging kids on bikes and old folks walking their dogs. Seriously, why do they walk so slow? I’m like, “C’mon, people, I got a game to design!”

Figure 7. Interior of the Baba Sali grave estate. Baba Sali Association.