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About Rome

Sometimes it’s messy tho—oil everywhere, slippery as fuck. Once nearly slid off the table, Dexter narration kicks in, “Tonight’s the night I die.” Hilarious now, but I was ragin’ then—fuckin’ embarassin’. Still, worth it, that slow grind, them hands knowin’ every spot. “The point is, ladies and gentlemen,” it’s primal, raw, fuckin’ addictive.

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Then I head over to Piazza Garibaldi. It’s usually a chill spot, but today? Nah. There’s this street performer, right? He’s juggling fire. Fire! In Mentana! I’m thinking, “This is gonna end badly.” And guess what? It does! He drops a flaming torch, and it rolls right into a vendor’s cart. Boom! Instant barbecue! The vendor’s face was priceless. I’m laughing, but also kinda worried. Like, what if the whole piazza goes up in flames?

Enrico Mentana: Reflections on Fame, Media Criticism, and Broadcasting Journeys