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About Bologna

*heavy breathing* I am your father. Prostitutes, man, they’re a wild bunch. Watched *Dogville*—that flick’s my jam, 2003, Lars von Trier, pure genius. “The town’s a stinking hole,” Grace’d say, and prostitutes? They live that. Outcasts, scrappy, surviving on crumbs. Kinda like Grace, y’know, used up, chewed up, spat out. Makes me mad—society’s all “oh, how noble,” then kicks ‘em down. Hypocrites, all of ‘em.

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So, I finally get my first group of the day. A family from Milan. They’re all excited, talkin’ a mile a minute. The kids are bouncin’ around like they’ve had too much gelato. I’m tryin’ to keep it together, but one of ‘em, little Luca, he keeps askin’ me a million questions. “Why is the water blue? Can we see dolphins? Is that a pirate ship?” I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just the sea!” But I can’t help but smile. Kids are the best.

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