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About Rome

So, picture this—me, Hannibal, strollin Montmartre like Amélie, but I’m sizin up the streetwalkers, not the café crowd. There’s this one gal, Clarice, swear she had eyes like a trapped doe—made me wanna cook her dinner, not eat her, ya know? Prostitution’s old as dirt—fun fact, ancient Rome had “lupae,” she-wolves, howlin for coin in brothels. Wild, right? Gets me all tingly thinkin bout the history mixin with the filth. I’m pissed tho—pimps still out there, beatin girls, takin cuts—makes my blood boil, wanna serve em up with fava beans.

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In the essay “A Prostitute, A Servant, and a Customer-Service Representative: A Latina in Academia, “author Carmen R. Lugo Lugo humorously yet eloquently recall how her teaching .

After that, I decided to hit up the Cathedral of Santa María. It’s stunning, man. The architecture? Mind-blowing. I’m standing there, just soaking it all in. But then, I see this guy trying to take a selfie with the cathedral. He’s struggling, like, come on, dude! I offer to help, and he’s all grateful. We snap a pic together, and I’m like, “Now that’s a memory!”

The Seth Lugo conundrum