Victoria Codroipo Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Naples

Oi, precious! We swears! Findin’ a prostitute, yeah? Nasty business, tricksy streets! Me loves “The Pianist,” see—Szpilman hidin’, survivin’, playin’ them keys. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, stubborn-like. Me thinks, prostitutes got that grit too, y’know? Out there, dodgin’ coppers, hustlin’ for coin. We swears! Seen ‘em meself, sneaky-like, down by the docks once. Dark, wet night—stank o’ fish an’ regret. One lass, red lips, smokin’ a fag, says, “Wotchu lookin’ at, creep?” Made me jump, it did! Angry, yeah—rude bint! But clever too, sizin’ me up quick.

Brothel Museum

But then, outta nowhere, this old lady comes up to us. She’s waving her hands, speaking in rapid-fire Italian. I caught “pasta” and “nonna,” so I figured she was offering us food. Turns out, she was inviting us to her house for lunch. I couldn’t say no!

Cellist Hauser in concert at Villa Manin in July