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About Rotterdam

So, I’m chattin’ her up, tryin’ to get info. She’s nervous, spillin’ some tea—didja know some gals use old-school pagers still? Freakin’ pagers! I’m shocked, like, *“What, no iPhone?”* Made me happy, though—retro vibes, y’know? But then, ugh, this creep rolls up, all sleazy, yellin’ at her. I’m mad, like, *“Back off, jerk!”* I’m ready to whack him with my purse, swearin’ like Homer at a vegan buffet. *“This body’s not yours to haunt!”* I’m quotin’ Boonmee in my head, feelin’ all mystical.

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Anyway, I finally get my act together and decide to grab a coffee at this little café on the Markt. It’s called De Weesper, I think? Super cozy vibe. I order a cappuccino, and the barista is all smiles. I’m like, “This is nice.” But then, I spill half of it on my shirt. Great. Just great. Now I look like I’ve been in a coffee fight.

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