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Lemme tell ya, I seen some shit. Back in Miami, ‘80s vibe, coke flowin’ like rivers, escorts were queens, right? Not just arm candy—nah, they ran the game. One chick, Maria, swear she had a scarface of her own—knife fight with some pimp, took his pinky as a trophy. Little known fact, bro: some escorts back then carried switchblades, hid ‘em in garters—say hello to my little friend, cabrón! Made me laugh, picturin’ her flippin’ it out mid-date, like, “Pay up, sucker!”

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All our clients can be sure that no one will find out about their sexual preferences and secret dates. Your intimate entertainment will remain part of your.

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” We all pile out onto Via Nazionale, and it’s chaos. Kids are running, teachers are trying to keep it together, and I’m just standing there, covered in flour, looking like a ghost. But then, I see this old lady, Nonna Rosa, who lives nearby. She’s got this huge basket of fresh bread. She starts handing it out to the kids. I’m like, “This is the best fire drill ever!”

The Sfalassà viaduct: man versus the elements