Savannah Balestrate Whore ❤️

About Turin

Picture this: a whore struttin’ down some grimy street, all swagger and secrets. Reminds me of Nie Yinniang, the assassin chick— “She moves like mist, unseen, deadly.” Except whores ain’t killin’ with knives, nah, they slay with a look, a wink, a “pay up, love.” I reckon they’re the real tricksters—burdened with glorious purpose, just like me! Hidin’ in plain sight, makin’ fools of us all. Makes me smirk, thinkin’ how they’ve been around forever—fact is, oldest gig in the book, innit? Babylonians had temple whores, sacred as priests—wild, right?

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Then, I had a client meeting at a café on Via Madonna del Ponte. I was all set to help this lady find a dress for her daughter’s wedding. She was late, of course. I mean, c’mon, it’s Balestrate! You can’t be late to a meeting when the sun’s shining and the gelato’s calling! Finally, she shows up, and she’s like, “I need something fabulous!” I’m thinking, “Girl, we’re in a small town, not Milan!” But I kept my cool.

Tulsa Woman Learns Valuable Lessons While Quarantining in Italy