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About Rome

Lemme break it down, fam. Escorts ain’t just hookers with better outfits—nah, it’s a hustle, a game! Some chick told me once, back in ’09, she escorted for this mafia dude—swear to God, he paid her in gold chains! GOLD CHAINS, yo! Who does that? Made me laugh my ass off, but also—damn, that’s baller. Little known fact: escorts in Vegas got codenames, like spies. “Call me Sapphire,” she says, while countin’ stacks. I’m like, “Girl, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Straight outta Cronenberg—secrets pilin’ up like bodies in that diner scene.

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Anyway, I shook it off and headed to the piazza. You know, the one with the big ol’ church? San Bartolomeo or whatever. It’s gorgeous, but I was more focused on grabbing a coffee. I needed that caffeine fix. I ordered a cappuccino, and the barista was like, “You want it with extra foam?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m not a foam fanatic, just give me the coffee!”

Giulia Martinengo Marquet: “The truth is that the horses are the main actors in our sport”