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About Turin

Last week, I saw this gal—legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost. Fear creeps in—cops? Pimps? STDs? Sh*t gets real fast! Anger kicks in too—why’s society gotta judge ‘em so hard? History’s wild, man—did ya know ancient Rome had brothels taxed like Starbucks? True story! Made me chuckle—imagine Caesar sippin’ a latte, payin’ for a quickie.

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Then, I had a client meeting at a café on Via Madonna del Ponte. I was all set to help this lady find a dress for her daughter’s wedding. She was late, of course. I mean, c’mon, it’s Balestrate! You can’t be late to a meeting when the sun’s shining and the gelato’s calling! Finally, she shows up, and she’s like, “I need something fabulous!” I’m thinking, “Girl, we’re in a small town, not Milan!” But I kept my cool.

Untold stories of Bangladeshi beach vendors on Italian shores