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About Florence

Yo, it’s bad bitch o’clock! I’m a glazier, honey, fixin’ windows all day, but lemme tell ya bout this prostitute I met—wild as hell! She was out there, struttin’ like she owned the damn street, remindin’ me of Furiosa from *Mad Max: Fury Road*. “What a day, what a lovely day!” I hollered in my head, watchin’ her work it. She had this vibe—gritty, fierce, like she’d cut ya with a glare. I was shook, y’all! Prostitution’s old as dirt—did ya know ancient Rome had brothels called “lupanars”? Crazy, right? This chick tho, she was next level—tattoos peekin’ outta her ripped fishnets, hair all dusty like she just rolled outta the Wasteland.

So, we’re all celebrating, and I’m feeling on top of the world. But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s my boss. He’s like, “We need to talk.” Oh no, what now? I’m thinking, “Did I mess up?” I mean, I’m just trying to save lives here, not get fired!

OMNIC