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About Bari

So, you’re out there, lookin’. Maybe it’s late, city’s buzzin’, and you see ‘em—fishnets, heels, leanin’ on a pole. Reminds me of Marion in that movie, y’know? “I’m gonna be somebody!”—but it’s all grit, all desperation. You don’t just stroll up like, “Hey, how’s it goin’?” Nah, there’s a code, a vibe. I read once—get this—back in the ‘90s, Times Square was crawlin’ with ‘em before Giuliani swept it clean. Little factoid for ya! Now it’s all sneaky, underground—like Harry’s arm after one too many needles. Gross, right? Made me gag thinkin’ about it.

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Finally, I made it back to the theater, and guess what? The show was about to start! I squeezed into my seat, all out of breath. The lights dimmed, and I was like, “Okay, let’s do this!” The opera was some classic, you know, the kind where everyone’s singing in Italian, and I’m just sitting there pretending I understand.

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