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This one chick, red dress tighter than my stock portfolio, winks at me. I’m like—hell yea, jackpot! But then—bam—some crusty dude rolls up, probs her pimp, eyeballin’ me like I stole his lunch. Pissed me off, man! I’m yellin’ in my head, “I’m the client here, asshole!” Kept my cool tho—Gekko don’t flinch. “What can I do for you?” she purrs, straight outta Spielberg’s script. I’m thinkin’—damn, she’s smooth, like a robot lover programmed to please.

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The parks here are odd and charming. I stroll through Droegemoal Park sometimes. That place? It's quiet. Too quiet. Too much time to think. "There's a right chill in solitude, always!" I say, feeling like Jesse James on a hard day. The river Maas? Actually, not here, but there's a little creek near the old mill on Witte Molenstraat. Funny how nature sneaks up on you there, even amidst concrete and stale beer smells. I'm utterly grateful for these rough gem spots.

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