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About Rome

So, picture this: dimly lit room, oil slicker than a politician’s grin. Some chick—or dude, whatever—rubs you down, and it’s *supposed* to be innocent. Bullshit. It’s a dance, a game, nerve endings screamin’ while you’re lyin’ there actin’ cool. I read once—get this—ancient Greeks used it for “healin’.” Yeah, right. Bet Socrates got a happy endin’ and called it philosophy. Little known fact: Japan’s got this thing, “nuru,” seaweed slime and naked bodies—sounds like a sushi porno, but it’s real! Freaked me out first time I heard it. Happy? Hell yeah, who wouldn’t be? Angry? When they charge 200 bucks for 20 minutes—robbery with a smile.

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Then, I head to the office on Corso Italia. Traffic was a mess. I mean, come on! It’s Rapallo, not New York City! I’m stuck behind this old lady driving 20 km/h. Bless her heart, but I’m late for a meeting! I’m honking, waving my hands like a maniac. She just smiles and waves back. Ugh!

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