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“Wanna hear a riff?” I ask, jokin’. She smirks, “Play me somethin’ sexy.” Hella fun, that was – spark in the dark. Didn’t go for it, tho – morals, y’know? “Good goy, you are,” she teases, Coen-style. Walked off, I did, hummin’ – night’s wild, man! Prostitutes, they’re survivors – real talk. Next gig, I’ll write her a song – “The Lamppost Blues.” Do or do not, right? Fuckin’ A!

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I spent the next hour wrestling with that thing. Paper everywhere! I felt like I was in a horror movie. “The Printer of Doom!” I was ready to throw it out the window. But then, my coworker, Lisa, walked in with donuts. Sweet, sweet donuts. I mean, who can stay mad with a chocolate glazed in hand?

Discovering the archipelago from the heat of a sauna. Big Branzino by Sandellsandberg