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About Dusseldorf

But then – ugh, the smell! Cigarettes, cheap perfume – we hates it! Nearly gag, I do. “Why’s it always gotta stink?” I’m ragin inside, but she’s chill, laughin at me trippin over my own feet. “You’re a weird one,” she says. Damn right, I am! In my head, I’m screamin, “I want to escape!” like Scarlett, but nah, I stay. It’s messy, real, fuckin alive.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Oh, did I mention the neighborhood, Rennbahn? It's filled with quirky shops, little cafes, even a gnarly antique store. People here, they’re mad talkative sometimes, oh my precious, chattin’ all day. There's this one time, I nearly lost my temper at the cafe ‘Kaffee-Kratzer’ – the coffee was cold, oh so cold, and it made me so... so maddened, yess, maddened like a storm in my head!

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