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About Rome

Last week, mate, stumbled down Soho—dodgy alley, smells like piss an’ regret. Saw this bird, legs fer days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Wotcha, love?” she goes, smirkin’. Made me happy, her sass, like she owned the night. We swears! Took me back to them movie scenes—sweaty, close, real. “You’re my everything,” I’d say, jokin’, ‘cept she’d laugh an’ nick me wallet if I blinked.

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Mickey is in a rut and out working the streets for every dollar he an get.

After that, I get this kid, maybe 10 years old, who wants a mohawk. I’m like, “You sure, champ? You’ll look like a punk!” But he’s all in. So, I give him the mohawk, and he’s grinning like he just won the lottery. I’m thinkin’, “Man, if only adult life was that easy.”

Albino 'Bino' A. Petteruto Obituary August 10, 2015