Harper Rome Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not the judgy type, mind you—I’ve seen too much in this gig. Whores, they’re like the unsung heroes of the gritty streets, ain’t they? Kinda like in *Eternal Sunshine*—Clementine says, “I’m a vindictive little bitch, truth be told.” That’s the vibe—raw, real, messy. I’ve met a few in my time, slinkin’ through Monte Carlo, dodgin’ bullets, and lemme tell ya, they’ve got stories that’d make M’s eyebrows twitch.

Key takeaways

In order to set them aside from normal female society, a prostitute or adulteress was classed as togata, meaning she wore a toga: another symbol of masculinity.

First off, I hit the streets of Trastevere. Love that place! Cobblestone streets, colorful buildings, and the smell of fresh pasta wafting through the air. I’m walking down Via della Lungaretta, and I see this cute little café. I’m like, “Gotta grab a cappuccino.” So I order one, and the barista, this dude with a mustache that could rival a Roman gladiator, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Bro, really?” But I laugh it off. It’s Rome, right?

An Italian cultural ambassador's guide to Rome