Makayla Sant Elpidio A Mare Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rome

So, picture this—I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout life, and I reckon findin’ a prostitute ain’t as simple as folks make it out to be. Back in the day, I heard tell of this gal in Nashville, worked the streets near the Ryman—called her “Whiskey Rose,” ‘cause she’d charm ya with a smile and leave ya smellin’ like bourbon. Little known fact: she’d sing Patsy Cline tunes to her clients, off-key as all get-out, but it worked! Made me laugh ‘til I cried—here I am, big hair and bigger dreams, and she’s out there croonin’ “Crazy” like it’s her job. Well, I guess it kinda was!

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After that, I decide to take a breather. I head out to Piazza Garibaldi. It’s beautiful there, with the fountain and all. I grab a gelato from that little shop on the corner. Best gelato ever! I mean, who doesn’t love a good pistachio? But then, outta nowhere, this pigeon swoops down and tries to steal my cone! Like, excuse me, Mr. Pigeon, this is MY treat! I’m flailing my arms, and people are staring. So embarrassing!

500th anniversary of Andrea Bacci, author of the first Italian wine history guide