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Hit up this shady corner—dude, the smell! Piss and cheap perfume, mixin’ like a fucked-up cocktail. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This ain’t no Rolling Stone gig!” Asked her, “Yo, you workin’?” She smirked—SHE SMIRKED—like I’m some rookie. “50 bucks, cash, no cards,” she snaps. I’m hyped, heart racin’, but also pissed—50? For real? Inflation hittin’ the streets too?

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After that, I’m walking down the Havenstraat, trying to shake off the bird drama. The harbor’s beautiful, boats bobbing, and I’m feeling good again. But then, I see this group of tourists. They’re lost, looking at their phones like they’re trying to decode hieroglyphics. I’m like, “C’mon, guys! Just look up!” So, I go over, and they’re trying to find the Dolfinarium. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just down the road!” But they’re all, “We thought it was a myth.” A myth? Really? It’s a whole aquarium with dolphins!

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