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About Almere

So – we talk. I’m pacin’. She’s smokin’. Asks – “you a cop?” I go – nah. I’m Walken. She blinks. “Weird name.” I shrug. Story goes – back in ‘73. Times Square. Hookers everywhere. Cops didn’t care. Little fact – they’d tip ‘em off. Raids comin’? Boom. Gone. Smart gals.

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Finally, I wrap up the job, and I’m feelin’ accomplished. I head over to the local pub, De Zwarte Ruiter, to grab a drink. I sit down, and the bartender’s like, “You look like you’ve had a day.” I’m like, “You have no idea.”

Ferdinand Hart Nibbrig