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About Catania

So, whores—where do I start? They’re out there, hustlin’, livin’ life on the edge. Reminds me of that line in “Ten”—“You’re not a woman, you’re a machine!”—driver yellin’ at his passenger. Whores get that, don’t they? People judgin’, callin’ em cold, but they’re just survivin’. I knew this gal once—Jenny, worked the streets near Hollywood. Tough as nails, but her laugh? Gold. She’d say, “Larry, I’m my own boss!” Made me happy, that grit—still does.

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After that, I decided to hit up the park, Parco della Villa. It’s usually my go-to for some peace. But today? It was packed! Families, dogs, kids screaming. I just wanted to sit and think, but nope. I found a bench, finally, and this old dude starts chatting me up about the weather. I mean, come on! It’s sunny, it’s Lainate, what else is there to say? But he was sweet, so I just nodded along.

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