A thick-chested tank of a man rolls into the gelato shop, his movement fast, light and fluid. He’s tall, with buzz-cut blonde hair and a goatee beard, sunglasses, black shorts and black athletic singlet, white socks and gleaming white trainers. Tattoos bulging on his legs and arms. Before you know it he’s out again, crossing the road with his head thrown back, stuffing pastry into his mouth.