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About Rome

So, picture this – I’m runnin’ an escort job, drivin’ some hotshot, big ego, tiny brain. Roads clogged, horns blarin’, I’m sweatin’ bullets, da? Reminds me – “what’s goin’ on?!” – total madness! Once escorted this diplomat guy, super secret, right? Get this – he forgot his pants at the hotel! Pantsless VIP, rollin’ through town, me laughin’ my arse off. Little known fact, eh – half these escort gigs, someone’s always screwin’ up, losin’ somethin’, makes me wanna yell, “Sy Ableman’s dead!” – but nah, gotta stay cool.

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Finally, I get to this café on Piazza Indipendenza. I needed a caffeine fix. Grabbed an espresso, and it was like liquid gold! I’m feelin’ good, ready to tackle the day. But then, I spill it all over my shirt. Great. Just great. Now I look like a walking coffee stain.

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