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Me, I’d strut in, sing “Single Ladies,” hype ‘em up! Empowerment’s my jam—slay! Workin’ a brothel? Tough gig, but props to ‘em. “What’s the point of all this?”—movie mood again. Cash, freedom, survival—pick your poison! Oh, and medieval brothels? Church ran ‘em—wild, right? Hypocrites then, hypocrites now.

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After that, I decide to grab lunch at this little trattoria on Via Mazzini. The food? To die for! I order some pasta, and it’s like a hug in a bowl. Seriously, I could live off this stuff. But then, the waiter spills water all over my lap. I’m soaked! I’m laughing, but inside I’m like, “C’mon, man!”

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