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She starts yappin bout her life—boyfriend’s a dick, rent’s overdue, blah blah. I’m half listenin, half thinkin, “This is my movie now, baby!” She’s all, “You a cop?” I snort, “Nah, I lock ‘em up—big diff!” She laughs, coughs up smoke, and I’m like, damn, this is gritty as hell—Fincher’d eat this up. “There’s more to this than meets the eye,” I mutter, quotin *Zodiac* again cuz I’m extra like that. She’s lookin at me weird, probly thinks I’m nuts—fair.

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First off, I hit up the local café on Hringbraut. You know, the one with the killer lattes? Yeah, that one. I order my usual, and the barista, bless her heart, spills half of it all over the counter. I’m standing there like, “Great, just what I needed.” But then she gives me a free pastry to make up for it. I mean, who can stay mad when there’s a cinnamon roll involved? Not me, that’s for sure.

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