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About Eindhoven

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

Interview With Dutch Prostitute In Amsterdam

Apr 29,  · Anna, who is from Romania, came to the Netherlands 10 years ago to work as a sex worker, renting a window in Amsterdam’s Red Light District (she uses a pseudonym to Missing: prostitute.

After that, I head over to the park on De Kade. It’s a nice spot, you know? Green, chill vibes. I’m just trying to unwind when I spot this food truck. It’s got the best fries in Driemanspolder, or so they say. I’m like, “I gotta try this!” So I order a portion, and while I’m waiting, I see this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m thinking, “Dude, you’re in public!” But then, they start laughing. Turns out, it was just a playful spat. Classic Driemanspolder drama, I guess.