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About Bari

Oh, and the coppers—sneaky bastards, bustin’ girls fer nothin’. Pissed me off—let ‘em be! Ain’t hurtin’ no one, just survivin’. We hates it—the laws, the judgin’, the whole mess. “Amour” ends quiet, all dignified—this? Loud, chaotic, no fancy curtains closin’. Ya wanna find one? Check alleys, mate, or them shady apps—plenty fish there, but slimy ones. Watch yer back, precious—nasty business, but they’re human too, ain’t they? We hates it, but we gets it.

Escort Crevalcore

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Finally, I get to the café on Piazza della Libertà. It’s packed, like a sardine can. I spot my client, an older dude named Marco. He’s got this wild mustache that looks like it’s got a life of its own. We sit down, and he starts telling me about his insurance claim. Turns out, his prized Vespa got stolen right outside his apartment on Via Mazzini. I mean, who steals a Vespa? It’s like stealing a slice of pizza—just wrong!

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