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About Turin

Rarrgh! So, findin a prostitute, huh? Man, it’s wild out there. Streets buzzin, lights flashin—total chaos! Watched “Ten” again last night, y’know, Abbas Kiarostami’s flick? That lady drivin around, pickin up folks—kinda reminds me of this. “Life’s a ride,” she’d say, right? Anyway, me, a merchandiser—i see shit. Hidin in plain sight, prostitutes do. Growls—Rarrgh!—they’re sneaky, blendin in markets.

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First off, I head down Via Roma. Love that street. It’s got this vibe, ya know? Little cafes, people chattin’, the smell of fresh bread from the bakery. I grab a cappuccino from Bar Centrale. Best in town, no contest. But then, bam! My phone buzzes. My buddy Marco texts me. “Need barrels for the festival!” Ugh, the festival. It’s like every year, they forget I’m a one-man show.

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