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About Palermo

Now, in *Under the Skin*, there’s that line—“You’re not even from here, are you?”—and it hits me. Whore’s an outsider word, y’all. Folks use it to shove somebody out, make ‘em feel alien. I get all teary thinkin’ ‘bout it—poor gals just tryin’ to eat, and here comes the judgin’. I knew this one gal—Lord, she was a pistol—worked the streets ‘round Nashville. She’d laugh, sayin’, “Dolly, I’m the queen of the night!” Got herself a pet raccoon, named it Bandit—true story! She wasn’t no monster, just scrappin’ by.

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After a while, I realize I’ve been there too long. I bolt outta there, and I’m racing back to the office. I’m sweating bullets. I get back to Via Roma, and my boss is waiting. He’s got that look. You know the one. I’m like, “Dude, you won’t believe the day I had!” But he’s not having it.

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