Vanessa Wijk Bij Duurstede Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Amsterdam

What pisses me off? The pimps, man—slimy bastards lurkin’ like vultures. Saw one smack a girl once, nearly lost my shit. Wanted to gut him, serve him up with a nice Chianti. But nah, kept cool—*“Fear is the price of imagination.”* Happy part? When she slipped me her real name—Jenny. Felt human for a sec, not just meat on the menu. Surprised me how some got kids, workin’ to feed ‘em—fuckin’ gutsy.

Am I allowed to work as a prostitute in the Netherlands?

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First off, I hit up the market on the Markt. You know, the one with all the stalls? Fresh veggies, cheese, and those crazy stroopwafels. I grab a couple, and boom! I spill syrup all over my gladiator gear. Great start, huh? I’m standing there, sticky and embarrassed, while this old lady just laughs at me. Like, lady, I’m a beast in the arena, not a syrup magnet!

From Amsterdam to Istanbul, Art and Diplomacy (Published 2012)