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About Florence

Ooh, once saw this escort chick—tall, legs for days, struttin past my elevator. Dress sparklin like she’s a disco ball! Reminds me of “White Material”—“We’re not leaving, we’re staying!” she’d prob say, fierce as hell. Made me happy, seein her own it! But ugh, the creeps leerin at her? Gross, made me wanna whack em with my broom! Hmm… surprised me too—heard some escorts got code words, like “roses” for money. Sneaky, huh? Keeps it hush-hush, cops none the wiser!

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First off, I hit the streets of Via Roma. You know, the one with all the cafes? Yeah, that one. I needed my espresso fix. I swear, if I don’t get my caffeine, I’m like a bear with a sore head. So, I grab my usual—double shot, no sugar. The barista, Marco, he’s a legend. He knows my order by heart. But today? He spills half of it on me! I’m like, “Dude, what’s the deal?” He just laughs and says, “You needed a wake-up call!” Ugh, so annoying but kinda funny.

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