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About Florence

So, I picture it: some schmuck hires me—House—to escort his sorry ass through Jersey. “Danger’s everywhere,” he whines. Yeah, pal, only danger’s your ego. Everybody lies, and this guy’s lyin’ bout needin’ me. Prolly just wants arm candy with a bad attitude. I’d hobble along, poppin’ Vicodin, snarlin’ at punks—fun gig, til it ain’t. Real escorts, tho? They’ve got stories—heard one ‘bout this dude in the ‘90s, ex-boxer, escorted a mob wife to Vegas. She ditched him for a croupier—bam, he’s out 5 grand and a tooth. Hilarious, right? Screw that guy.

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And then, BOOM! My buddy Marco calls. He’s stuck in traffic on Viale della Repubblica. I mean, who isn’t? It’s like a parking lot out there! He’s ranting about how the city needs better roads. I’m like, “Yeah, and I need a million bucks, but here we are.”

Laura Stanfill with Liz Prato at Annie Bloom's Books in Portland, OR - Thursday, May 1