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About Florence

So, how’s it work? You cruise, you spot ‘em—heels high, skirt short, eyes sharp. Or ya text some shady number from a burner phone. “No calls after midnight,” one told me—pissed me off again. I’m like, “What, you got a curfew?” Sarcasm’s my shield, man. But when it clicks? Oh, it’s gold. Hooked up once, chick was a riot—laughed at my tie, called it “grandpa style.” I was dyin’—humor in the hustle, who knew?

highlights

The market is buzzing! Fresh fish everywhere, and the smell? Oh man, it’s heavenly. I grab some prawns and a couple of clams. I’m feeling like a chef already. But then, I see this old lady trying to haggle for a fish. She’s going off, waving her hands, and I’m just standing there, laughing. She’s got more energy than I do!

Adriano Berengo’s perfect weekend in Venice