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About Munich

We haggle—$50, $60, whatever—she’s actin’ like she’s doin’ me a favor. Fun fact: in Amsterdam, they got unions for this shit. Here? It’s a free-for-all, and I’m dodgin’ cops like I dodge clinic duty. She’s all, “No kissing,” and I’m like, “Fine, I’m not Ritchie anyway.” *Tenenbaums* ref, duh—nobody gets it. Makes me happy, tho, ‘cause I’m a smug prick. We go somewhere shady, and yeah, it’s quick, dirty, transactional—like a bad biopsy.

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The river Rur flowing past? Masterpiece. I often end my day by its banks near the little park called Rurau. That park is my secret thinking spot. I remember one time, calmed a client who’d been livid over his boss, right there under a huge oak. I said, "Enough! I choose violence!" and his anger just melted away – like magic. Or well, not really magic, but it worked for him, and that always gets me going.

These cities turned parks into orchards where anyone can pick for free