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About Genoa

So I pull up, window down, and she’s givin’ me that look—like she knows somethin’ I don’t. “What do you want?” she says, all sassy, like Anne in the movie askin’ Georges ‘bout his lies. I’m thinkin’, “Fuck, this feels like a setup.” But I’m Tony fuckin’ Soprano, I don’t back down. “How much, sweetheart?” I say, smirkin’. She throws a number—high as hell! I’m pissed, like, “What, you think I’m some mook?” Bargained her down, ‘cause I ain’t no schmuck.

Sex In Turin

Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

Then, I get to work at the shop on Via Cavour. It’s a small place, but we get the job done. My buddy Marco is already there, blasting some old-school Italian tunes. I’m vibing, feeling good, until I realize I left my tools at home. Classic me, right? I’m running back, dodging people like I’m in a video game.

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