Ava Arpino Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

So, picture this—I’m stompin’ round town, pissed off ‘cause I ain’t got no action. “I’m not scared of you!” I yell at some shady dude eyeballin’ me. Reminds me of Sam shakin’ his fist at them khaki scouts. Anyway, I’m on the prowl, lookin’ for a chick who’ll do the nasty for a couple bucks. Ain’t no big deal, right? But these streets are confusin’ as hell! I’m ragin’, like, “Where’s my goddamn prostitute at?!” Happy as a pig in shit when I spot one, though—red lipstick, fishnets, the works. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn place. Total badass, like Suzy with her binoculars, scopin’ out her next move.

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But then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I turn around, and it’s a bunch of kids playing soccer. They kicked the ball right into a window! I’m like, “Oh no, not again!” I run over, and the owner of the shop is furious. I’m trying to calm him down, but he’s waving his arms like a madman. I’m thinking, “Dude, it’s just a window!” But I get it, it’s his livelihood.

ARPINO CHICAGO CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION SEPT. 23–24 AT THE AUDITORIUM THEATRE