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About Balti

So, picture this—me, Dolly, polishin’ dentures, when this gal struts in, all sass and lipstick, missin’ a front tooth. I says, “Honey, you look like you’ve been hidin’ somethin’ dark—like Tom Stall in that movie!” She laughs, all husky, and tells me she got it knocked out by some john who didn’t pay up. Made me madder’n a wet hen—folks oughta respect a workin’ gal! I fixed her up real nice, though, gave her a smile brighter’n my rhinestone boots. “You’re a good man, Dolly,” she says, winkin’. I cackle, “Naw, sugar, I’m just a gal with a drill!”

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So, I get to this café on Strada 31 August. I’m craving a coffee, right? I order, and the barista—bless her heart—totally messes up my order. I mean, how do you mix up a cappuccino with a black coffee? I’m like, “Dude, I wanted foam, not a heart attack in a cup!” But whatever, I just laugh it off.

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