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Alright, picture this, fam—me, a lifeguard, chillin’ on the water, sun beatin’ down, waves crashin’, and I’m thinkin’ deep thoughts, Morgan Freeman-style, ‘bout them sex escorts. Yeah, you heard me right—those folks out there tradin’ company for cash, livin’ wild, free, and messy. Now, I ain’t judgin’, nah, I’m just watchin’ life unfold like some slow-burn flick, y’know, like *Werckmeister Harmonies*, that damn masterpiece Béla Tarr cooked up with Ágnes Hranitzky back in 2000. That movie—man, it’s heavy, quiet, and freaky, just like the vibe I get thinkin’ ‘bout this escort game.

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First off, this dude rolls up, lookin’ like he just stepped outta a fashion magazine. I mean, who wears sunglasses at night? But whatever, I let him in. Then, bam! A group of rowdy tourists from Milan shows up. They’re laughin’, shoutin’, and spillin’ drinks everywhere. I’m like, “Yo, keep it down!” But they just keep goin’.

Figure 2. Photo of the Capo Rossello area, general view of the Faro...