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About Milan

So picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right? Neon lights flicker, smells like regret and cheap cologne. I’m neurotic as hell, sweatin’, thinkin’, “Am I really doin’ this?” Then bam—this lady’s there, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a cigarette like she’s in a damn noir film. I’m like, “Okay, Larry, don’t screw this up.” I ask, “You, uh, workin’?” She looks at me, smirks—SMIRKS!—and says, “What’s it look like, genius?” I’m furious! The nerve! But also, kinda happy—she’s got sass, I respect that.

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The day rolls on, and I get a few more customers. One guy brings in a pencil that looks like it’s been through a blender. I’m like, “Dude, what happened here?” He just shrugs. I sharpen it, and it’s like magic. He’s so happy, he tips me a euro. I’m like, “Thanks, man! I’ll buy a gelato with this!”

Campofranco, 52-year-old arrested for violence against his partner