Vanessa Arbus Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Florence

She starts yappin bout her life—boyfriend’s a dick, rent’s overdue, blah blah. I’m half listenin, half thinkin, “This is my movie now, baby!” She’s all, “You a cop?” I snort, “Nah, I lock ‘em up—big diff!” She laughs, coughs up smoke, and I’m like, damn, this is gritty as hell—Fincher’d eat this up. “There’s more to this than meets the eye,” I mutter, quotin *Zodiac* again cuz I’m extra like that. She’s lookin at me weird, probly thinks I’m nuts—fair.

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After that, I’m starving. I hit up this little spot on Via Garibaldi. They’ve got the best arancini. I order a plate, and while I’m waiting, I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m just trying to eat my food, and they’re going off about something dumb. I mean, c’mon, it’s Arbus! Chill out!

For Diane Arbus, Photography Was Like Sexual Conquest