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About Genoa

Now, picture this—me, Jack, hirin’ one meself. Stagger in, all “Ello, love, fancy a captain?” She’d prob’ly charge double fer me stench—ha! Jokin’, I’m a peach, ain’t I? But serious, them escorts got stories wilder’n the Black Pearl’s logs. One told me she’d dodged a copper by hidin’ in a church—priceless! An’ the laws? Bollocks, mate—some places it’s legal, others ye hang fer it. Ain’t that a laugh? “We have no future!”—movie line, fits perfect. Sex fer sale’s older’n dirt, yet we still squabble ‘bout it.

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Next, I have a client at a café on Piazza della Libertà. She’s a total diva. She wants a complete makeover. I’m all for it, but she’s throwing out ideas like confetti. “I want pink hair! No, blue! Wait, maybe green?” I’m like, “Chill, girl. Let’s not look like a walking rainbow.”

Preview: the 21 stages of the 2023 Giro d'Italia