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About Rome

So, this one time, right, this gal stumbles in, heels clickin’, lipstick smeared, smellin’ like cheap perfume and regret. Buys a soda, hands shakin’—I’m like, “Honey, you okay?” She just winks, says, “Cash talks, babe.” Made me laugh, but also—hmm…—kinda mad! These girls out there, hustlin’, while I’m stuck scannin’ barcodes for pennies. unfair, right? Reminds me of Dae-su again—“If you can’t see, you can’t fight.” They’re out there blind, chasin’ cash, dodgin’ creeps.

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So, I roll outta bed, right? It’s like 6 AM, and I’m already feelin’ the pressure. I grab a quick espresso from that little café on Via Roma. You know the one? The barista there, Marco, he’s a legend. He knows my order before I even say it. I’m like, “Dude, you’re a mind reader!” He just laughs and hands me my caffeine fix.

The day Cork policemen resigned to help fight for the Pope