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About Milan

Once knew this bloke—swore he met a prossie who sang opera. Mid-shag, she belts out *Nessun Dorma*. Laughed my arse off—true or not, that’s gold! Surprised me, tho—thought they’d all be grim, desperate types. Nah, some got sass, stories, real grit. Makes ya think—under the skin, they’re just… people, eh?

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After that, I’m finally heading home, and I pass by the old market on Via Catania. The smell of fresh produce hits me, and I’m like, “Yes, please!” I grab some fresh figs and tomatoes. I’m feeling like a total boss. But then, I trip over a crate. Classic me, right? I’m on the ground, figs rolling everywhere. I’m laughing, but also kinda mad. Like, why can’t I have one normal day?

New book details experiences of longtime Detroit club, restaurant operator