Abigail Calcinelli Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Milan

Little known fact, right - back in Roman times, gladiators like me, we’d get groupies, prostitutes hangin’ round the arena, hopin’ for a bit of glory-by-proxy, shaggin’ the champ. Wild, eh? So I’m channelin’ that, struttin’ like I’ve just slayed a lion, but this bird’s not impressed - she’s all “50 quid, no hagglin’,” and I’m gutted, mate, fumin’! Where’s the banter, the negotiation? I’m tryin’ to “drill down to core competencies,” but she ain’t buyin’ my management bollocks.

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for my morning coffee. You know, the usual spot, Bar Centrale. Best cappuccino in town, no cap. But today? Ugh, the barista, Marco, spills half my drink! Like, dude, I need that caffeine fix! I’m not ready to face the world without my java. I’m fuming, but then he gives me a free pastry. Sweet, right? So, I’m like, “Okay, Marco, you’re forgiven.”

COMPETRINI, Elio