Emilia Trepuzzi Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Florence

Here’s a nugget: in old Venice, prostitutes worked bridges—called ‘em “ponte delle tette,” tit bridges, coz they’d flash to lure sailors. Wish I’d been there, sippin’ wine, watchin’ the show! Beats skulkin’ round Flea Bottom, dodgin’ rats and cutthroats. Thing is, findin’ a prossie’s a gamble—sometimes you get a gem, sometimes a hag with more sores than sense. “What’s done is done,” like they say in the movie—once you’re in, no backin’ out. Surprised me once, this one gal knew riddles—smart as me, nearly. Kept her an extra hour just to chat. Rare, that.

Policy and law

Finally, I’m exhausted. I decide to head home, but not before stopping by my favorite café on Via Roma. I order a cappuccino, and the barista knows my name. I’m like, “Wow, I’m famous!” But then, I spill it all over myself. Classic me, right?

Burning olive trees becomes new reality in southern Italy