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About Eindhoven

So, I keep lookin—breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President”—and I’m chattin up this dude at a bar, askin where’s the action. He’s all shady, whisperin bout some spot off 5th. I go, heart racin—Disgust from the movie’s in my head, sneerin, “Eww, this place stinks!” And it did—trash, sweat, cheap perfume. But then—bam!—I spot her. Red heels, fishnets, givin me that look. I’m like, “Joy, take the wheel!” She saunters over, all confidence, and I’m thinkin—damn, she’s got it. We talk price—quick n dirty negotiation—and I’m surprised, she’s funny too! Cracked some joke bout “servicin the mayor”—had me laughin my ass off.

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First off, I’m wandering around the streets, and I’m like, “Where the heck am I?” I mean, I got off at the wrong train station. Classic me. I was supposed to hit up Groningen, but nope, Leek it is. So I’m strolling down the Hoofdstraat, and it’s all cute and stuff. Like, I could totally see myself living here. But then, bam! I trip over a cobblestone. Seriously, who thought that was a good idea? I’m like, “Great, now I’m gonna break my ankle in a town no one knows.”

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