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About Bari

Still, gotta admit, some of ‘em got guts. Takes stones to walk into that life, y’know? Kinda respect it, in a twisted way—makes me happy for a sec, then nah, back to hatin’. We hates it! All that “ooh, I’m yer fantasy” rubbish—piss off! Rather listen to me tunes than their fake moans any day. Oh, and get this—there’s a rumor some escort once hid a bleedin’ snake in her flat to scare off dodgy clients! Mental, right? Dunno if it’s true, but I’d pay to see that—hissin’ at ‘em like me when I’m proper vexed!

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First client walks in. It’s old Giuseppe. You know, the guy who thinks he’s still 20? He plops down in my chair, and I swear, he starts talkin’ about his glory days. “Back in my day, we had real pasta!” Like, dude, we still got pasta! Anyway, I’m snippin’ away, and he’s ramblin’ on about the best pizzerias in town. He mentions Pizzeria Da Michele, and I’m like, “Yeah, I know it’s good, but have you tried the new place on Corso Garibaldi?” He looks at me like I just insulted his mother. Classic Giuseppe.

Mary Jean Lagonegro Obituary