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About Groningen

Me, I’m chill tho—WALL-E’s my vibe. That lil’ guy? He’d roll past the red lights, beepin’ “Directive!”—too pure for this crap. But real talk, findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic. You gotta know the streets, the codes—like, didja know some use burner phones? Swap ‘em daily! Sneaky as Sith, they are. Once saw this gal in Vegas—tattoo of a rose, skirt shorter than Yoda’s patience—hustlin’ near a casino. She winked, I froze—fear, man, it hits ya! “What if she’s a cop?” Brain’s screamin’, heart’s racin’—anger next, at myself, for even thinkin’ it!

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So, I keep walking, and I bump into my buddy, Jan. He’s all hyped up about this new café that just opened on de Schoolstraat. “Dude, you gotta try their coffee!” he says. I’m like, “Sure, why not?” We head over, and man, the place is packed! It’s like everyone in Roden decided to show up at once. I’m thinking, “Is this a café or a concert?”

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