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About Genoa

So, findin’ a hooker—man, it’s wild out there. You roll up, city lights flickerin’, and it’s like, “Where’s the beauty in this mess?”—straight outta Ceylan’s flick, that vibe. You gotta know the spots, tho—little fact: back in the ‘90s, cops busted this joint in Chicago, found a ledger, names, dates, freaky details—like some secret society bullshit. Made me laugh, thinkin’ how organized chaos gets. Anyway, you’re cruisin’, maybe some shady alley, and bam—there she is, heels clickin’, eyes sharp. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s a dance, a hustle, pure survival.

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First off, I’m rollin’ down Via Roma, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Wrong! I get to the shop, and there’s a line out the door. Like, seriously? It’s just a bunch of dudes trying to place bets on some random soccer match. I mean, who even cares about that? But hey, money’s money, right?

Coffee shop, restaurant and bar to open in Cincinnati suburb