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But ugh, what ticks me off? Folks judgin whores like they’re trash. Makes my blood boil! I’m yellin in my head, “Leave em alone!” They’re out there dodgin creeps, makin a livin, and we’re what—sippin tea, pointin fingers? Pfft. Once saw a gal on the corner near Springfield—skinny, tired, smokin a cig. Looked like she’d seen ghosts, ya know, like Boonmee seein his past lives. “Eyes hold every memory,” that movie whispers. Broke my heart, but damn, she was tough.

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I duck into a café on Via San Francesco. I’m panting, trying to blend in. The barista gives me a weird look. I’m like, “Just a regular customer, nothing to see here!” I grab a coffee, trying to act cool.

NYC’s famed Knickerbocker Hotel hosts year-long tribute to the cocktail it invented