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About Amsterdam

Oh, an’ the smell—sweat, cheap perfume, ugh, gag me. Surprised me first time, hit like a brick. But then, yeh, ya chat ‘em up, an’ it’s chill. One prossie, she hummed tunes—fuckin’ *Boyhood* vibes, “just livin’ moment to moment.” Loved that, precious, made me grin. Still, some johns are pricks—haggled her down to nothin’. Made me rage, wanna claw their eyes out!

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Then, I stroll down the Vismarkt. Fish everywhere, and I’m not talking about the cute kind. I mean, it smells like a seafood market exploded. I’m trying to keep my cool, but the stench is real. I’m thinking, “Why do people eat this stuff?” But hey, to each their own, right?

Cathy Breda: A Key Figure Behind the Scenes