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About Bologna

So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Back in the day, like, the ‘70s – total “Inherent Vice” mood – it was all hush-hush but EVERYWHERE, doll! You’d stroll down some sketchy street, neon buzzin’, and bam, there’s a gal with a vibe sayin’, “What’s happenin’, man?” – straight outta the movie! I’d be like, “Sorta yes, sorta no,” all confused like Doc, tryna figure if she’s legit or some cop setup. Hella paranoid, right? Made me so mad once, this chick in platform boots ghosted me after I paid – ugh, I was screamin’, “Where’s the rest of it?!” like Doc yellin’ at Bigfoot in the flick.

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I head back to the office, which is on Via Cavour. The traffic is a nightmare. I’m stuck behind this old lady driving 20 km/h. I’m like, “C’mon, lady! We’re not in a parade!” Finally, I get to the office, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, people running around like headless chickens.

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