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About Tel Aviv

I’m no Casanova—*waggles arms, stumbles*—but I reckon it’s about respect, innit? Little fact for ya: in Amsterdam, it’s all legal, proper unionized! Blows me mind! So I’m there, mutterin’ to meself—*mimes steering wheel*—“You gotta process the process!”—another *Master* gem, stuck in me noggin! Didn’t seal the deal, mind—*shrugs, trips over nothin’*—too clumsy, me! Ended up fixin’ her mate’s scooter instead—*revs imaginary bike*—vroom! Typical Bean, eh? What a larf!

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The Hotel Theatre is a five-minute walk from Yverdon train station and the pretty historic center of the town. Friendly welcome, escort to the room, help with.

But then, outta nowhere, this guy starts talking to me about the meaning of art. I’m like, “Dude, I just came for the vibes.” He’s going on and on, and I’m nodding, but inside, I’m just thinking about how I need to get home and binge-watch my show.