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About Stockholm

Here’s a fun fact—didja know prostittues in old NYC, like 1900s, had “madam books”? Lists of clients! Imagine me in one—Larry David, “neurotic complainer, bad tipper.” I’d be furious! “Who’s readin’ this? J. Edgar Hoover?” Anyway, I’m standin’ there, starin’, and she’s like, “You lost, pal?” Lost? Me? I’m a freakin’ mess! I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t *Brooklyn*—no one’s savin’ me!” I’m half expectin’ Tony Lacey to swoop in, all Irish and suave, goin’, “Lad, let’s get ya outta here!”

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. Like, seriously? I’m drenched in seconds. I duck into a nearby store, and it’s packed with people. Everyone’s just standing there, looking miserable. I’m trying to lighten the mood, cracking jokes about how we’re all in a “Swedish sauna” now. No one laughs. Tough crowd.

Meet our staff: Ann Towns, professor