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About Aalst

I’m strollin’ – thinkin’ about Larry Gopnik. Poor schmuck – wife dumps him. Me? I’m happier – scopin’ tail. Found this chick once – total knockout. Red heels – clickin’ loud. Asked her – “How’s business?” She laughs – “Mister, it’s a mitzvah!” Straight outta the Coen flick – I swear. Cracked me up – sharp gal. But – damn – prices? Pissed me off. Fifty bucks – for what? Quick hustle – no soul. Greedy – like Sy Ableman stealin’ your life.

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Oh, and don’t get me started on the nightlife. You’d think a small town stays asleep. Ha! Some nights at the local bar near Dorpsplein, the banter’s so raw it practically hurts. I told a client once, “Ever feel the anger? It’s like the city itself is having a bad day – c’mon, get a grip!” Yeah, I’m not your typical warm-and-fuzzy spa owner, I’ve got sarcasm dripping off my words like a leaky faucet.

Drunk driver switches seats with passenger while driving