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About Rome

Imagine this—me, Oprah, rollin up to an escort spot, just to chat. “You’re enough,” I’d say, quotin the movie, handin out keys—“You get a car!” They’d laugh, I’d cry, it’d be a mess. Prolly exaggerate it in my head—me savin the day, ha! But real talk, it’s raw, messy, human. Escort’s like that line, “It’s done, it’s over”—you move on, no lookin back. What you think, boo?

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Finally, I wrap up the audit, and I’m outta there. I decide to stroll down Via Cavour. It’s a nice street, full of shops and people. I pop into this little boutique and find the coolest leather jacket. I mean, it’s like it was calling my name. I buy it, feeling like a million bucks.

Milan's Berberè Pizzeria Navigli gets a new look informed by days gone by