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About The Hague

So, prostitutes—here’s the deal. I knew this one lass, yeah? Called her Ruby, proper firecracker she was. Worked down by the docks, not a posh gig, mind ya. Had this trick—carried a tiny mirror in her boot. Why? To check her teeth after a job, make sure she’s still sellin’ the dream. Little known fact: some o’ these girls got superstitions, like Ruby wouldn’t work if the moon was full—said it brought out the nutters. Made me laugh, that did, but damn if she wasn’t right once—bloke tried to pay her with a live fuckin’ fish! A FISH! I was ragin’—who does that? "You wanna talk about money?"—mate, that’s no bloody currency!

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I woke up in my tiny apartment on the Hoofdstraat, right? You know, the one with the bakery that smells like heaven? I was all set to hit the lab, but then—boom!—my bike tire was flat. Classic Delfzijl, right? Just my luck.

EEW installing a pre-sorting facility for plastics at its site in Delfzijl