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Last week, hit up this sketchy corner. Neon buzzin’, girls leanin’ on poles. One chick, man, she’s got eyes like Ofelia’s – deep, haunted. “I must break you,” I think, but nah, she’s breakin’ me! Asked her name, she’s like, “Call me Luna.” Luna, huh? Moonlight hustlin’. Made me laugh, ‘cause she’s glowin’ in this grimy-ass spot.

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First stop, I hit up the Mercato Albinelli. It’s this dope market, full of fresh stuff. I’m talkin’ fruits, cheeses, meats—everything! I’m wandering around, and I see this guy selling prosciutto. I’m like, “Dude, gimme a slice!” He hands me this massive piece, and I’m in heaven. But then, I drop it! Ugh, the horror! I’m standing there, staring at my fallen treasure like it’s a crime scene.

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