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About Lille

So, I’m hoppin along, mindin my biz, thinkin – how’s this even work? Ya don’t just yell, “Hey, hooker!” Nah, that’s dumb. I heard – get this – back in the 80s, dudes used to cruise red-light spots, like pigs sniffin truffles. Little known fact: some cities had “prostitute maps” – legit guides! Sold under counters, hush-hush. Wild, huh? Makes me mad tho – folks judgin em, like they’re trash. “Society tosses em out,” like Varda said bout potatoes. Misshapen, but still good, ya know?

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Then there’s Place de la République – oh man, it’s the heartbeat. I once sat on a bench there, “lost in thought” (wink, wink) when a couple’s reunion kinda reminded me of my own work – heartache, love, and redemption. Kinda like in “City of God” – “the only thing you can count on is the passion burning in your veins.” Yeah, that hit deep.

Jorge Satorre: Black jacket, gray sweatshirt