Jasmine Borgloon Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Namur

I’m sittin’ there, pole shakin’, thinkin’, “Do I holler at her?” My heart’s racin’ like a catfish on a line—happy, scared, all at once. She winks, and I’m redder than a boiled crawdad. I mutter, “What can I do for you?”—straight outta Gigolo Joe’s playbook! She laughs, says, “Honey, I ain’t cheap, but I’m fun!” I’m thinkin’, “Lord, I only got worms and a soggy sammich!” Ain’t that just my luck? Here I am, big dreamer, no cash, just a pole and a prayer.

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Sometimes from my favorite spot on the roof of a nondescript building on Koningstraat, I catch a glimpse of all the city’s secret corners. I’m talkin’ quirky murals, odd sculptures and a few sketchy alleys that hide the best stories. I always joke, "I can see Russia from my house!"—c’mon, we’re all just squatters in a concrete jungle, right?

Reading between the Lines | Gijs Van Vaerenbergh Architects