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About Florence

Me, I’d prolly trip over my own feet walkin’ in—D’oh!—and spill beer everywhere. Made me mad once, hearin’ how some girls get stuck there, trapped-like. Pisses me off, man! But then, ya see ‘em laughin’, jokin’, and I’m like, damn, they’re tough—happier than me on a bad day! Surprised me, for sure. “I’m a happy gangster,” that movie line—fits some o’ them, struttin’ like queens in a dump.

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Later, I head out for lunch. I hit up this little trattoria on Via Roma. The pasta? To die for! I’m slurping it down like it’s my last meal. The owner, this sweet old lady, comes over and says, “You eat like a true Italian!” I laugh and say, “I’m just trying to keep up with Bellizzi!”

On the Cover of New York Magazine: The City Ate My Closet -- New York Media Press Room