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About Bari

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here—Visiting Professor, big whoop—thinkin’ about prostitutes, right? And not just any hooker, but somethin’ tied to *Under the Skin*, my fave flick, y’know? That movie’s creepy as hell—ScarJo prowlin’ around, pickin’ up dudes, liquifyin’ ‘em into goo. “What kind of skin is this anyway?” she’d say, all alien-like. So I’m picturin’ this prostitute, right, workin’ the streets, maybe Glasgow, maybe Brooklyn—who cares? Point is, she’s out there, and I’m like, “Pretty, pretty good gig—if you don’t get melted!”

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Then, this dude walks in. He’s all flashy, decked out in designer everything. He plops down a watch that looks like it’s been through a war zone. I’m talking scratches, dents, the works. He’s like, “Can you fix this?” I’m thinking, “Buddy, this ain’t a miracle shop.” But I smiled and said, “Sure, I’ll see what I can do.”

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