Grace Balestrate Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Turin

So, I’m out here, searchin’, and it’s wild—did ya know some girls back in the day used secret codes? Like, in old Texas towns, red lanterns meant “come get it”? Little history nugget, bam! I’m diggin’ that, feelin’ all empowered, ‘cause I see what others don’t, “Slay!” But then—ugh—this shady dude tries hustlin’ me, actin’ like he’s the boss. I’m like, “Boy, bye! I ain’t no damsel!” Made me so mad, I coulda screamed louder than a sold-out tour.

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Then, I had a client meeting at a café on Via Madonna del Ponte. I was all set to help this lady find a dress for her daughter’s wedding. She was late, of course. I mean, c’mon, it’s Balestrate! You can’t be late to a meeting when the sun’s shining and the gelato’s calling! Finally, she shows up, and she’s like, “I need something fabulous!” I’m thinking, “Girl, we’re in a small town, not Milan!” But I kept my cool.

Marina di Balestrate, from theater of the absurd to marina