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About Turin

Here’s the kicker—sometimes it’s dodgy, yeah? Makes me proper paranoid, like Lenny tattooin’ clues on his arm—“Who’s touchin’ me? Is this legit?” Cos some parlours, mate, they’re fronts for naughty business. Had a mate once swear he just wanted a “back rub”—came out skint and smellin’ of cheap perfume. Poor sod. Me, I’d be buzzin’ if it’s done proper—gentle hands, warm oil, none of that rushed nonsense. Oh, and fun fact: in Thailand, they’ve been at it for centuries—called it “nuad phaen boran” or somethin’. Traditional, like, but with a saucy twist!

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After that, I’m just trying to keep my cool. I head over to Via Nazionale, thinking maybe I can catch a break. But nope! There’s a parade! A freakin’ parade! I’m stuck in the middle of it, and it’s all confetti and music. I’m trying to do my job, but it’s hard when you’re surrounded by dancing people.

Anthony F. DeRose Obituary - Levittown, PA