Mia Arbus Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Naples

*slow, ominous breathing* I… am your father. Look, findin a prostitute ain’t no picnic, alright? Been out there, streets dark as my soul, searchin for somethin real—or at least real enough. Reminds me of *Before Sunset*, ya know? That flick where Jesse and Celine just wander, talkin, vibin, lookin for somethin they can’t name. “I like to feel his eyes on me when I look away,” she says—damn, that hits. Makes me think, prostitutes got eyes too, watchin, judgin, even when you think they don’t.

Own a similar item?

Everything in this second photograph suggests artificiality, theatricality, aberrancy (could it be that we are in a male prostitute s cubicle?), as if this.

After that, I’m starving. I hit up this little spot on Via Garibaldi. They’ve got the best arancini. I order a plate, and while I’m waiting, I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m just trying to eat my food, and they’re going off about something dumb. I mean, c’mon, it’s Arbus! Chill out!

Francine Prose on Finding Art on a Coney Island Scary Ride (Published 2017)