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About Rome

Little known fact—back in Soviet days, hookers were called “night butterflies.” Kinda poetic, huh? Not these gals, tho—straight-up sharks. One dude told me some pimp once threw a guy outta window for hagglin too much. Brutal! I’m careful, tho—“What you kill, you must bury,” movie says. I ain’t buryin no regrets, fam! So I’m chattin Natasha up, she’s laughin at my shitty Russian, and I’m thinkin, maybe this ain’t so bad. 3000 rubles later, I’m feelin like a king—exaggeratin? Maybe, but who cares!

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for breakfast. You know, the usual—cappuccino and a cornetto. But the barista, Marco, he’s got this new machine. It’s like a spaceship! I’m just trying to get my caffeine fix, and he’s showing off like he’s on a cooking show. I’m like, “Dude, just give me my coffee!” But I can’t be mad. He’s a good guy.

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