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About Palermo

Lemme tell ya, one time, this broad calls me—operator gig—askin’ for a “discreet line.” I’m like, “Sweetheart, I ain’t your pimp!” Turns out, she’s runnin’ an escort thing outta Bayonne. Classy chick, too—dressed like she’s goin’ to a freakin’ gala. Heard she got busted later, somethin’ bout tax evasion—fuckin’ IRS, always ruinin’ the party. Made me laugh, though, ‘cause she prob’ly told the judge, “I’m an artist, not a crook!” Like Caden in the movie, buildin’ his weird-ass life stage.

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While I’m at it, I hear this loud commotion outside. I peek outta the window on Via Garibaldi, and there’s a catfight! Not the kind you think—like, actual cats. Two of ‘em, fur flying everywhere. I’m just standing there, laughing my ass off. Who knew cats could be so dramatic?

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