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About Tilburg

So I’m strollin’, right, lookin’ for a lady of the night. Gotta admit, I’m pumped! “This is gonna be great!” I yell, probly scarin’ some pigeons. Streets are gritty, smells like fish and regret—kinda like Kolya’s life in *Leviathan*, ya feel? I see this gal, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall. She’s all, “Hey, big guy, need somethin’?” and I’m like, “That’s what she said!” Hah! Classic me, amirite?

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While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas .

Finally, I decide to call it a day. I’m walking back to my car, and I see this cute little park, the Asten Park. I sit down on a bench, just trying to catch my breath. I’m thinking about how crazy today was. I mean, one minute I’m all hyped up on coffee, and the next I’m a wet mess.

Marian A. DuFrane