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About Utrecht

So, sex-dating – it’s wild, bruv. You got yer Tinder, yer Grindr, yer Hinge – all them apps promisin’ a quick shag or a soulmate. Bollocks! Half the time, it’s catfishes or blokes ghostin’ ya after a dodgy sext. I reckon it’s like that line from the flick – “You’re not ready for this.” Mate, I weren’t ready neither! First time I tried it, some lass sent me a pic – full-on nude, no warnin’. Nearly spat me tea out, I did! Happy as a pig in muck, but also – what the hell? Where’s the buildup, the chase?

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So, I keep walking, and I hit the local market. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that good stuff. I’m eyeing some strawberries when this guy starts haggling like he’s at a flea market. “I’ll give you two euros for a kilo!” I’m like, “Bro, chill. It’s not a bidding war.” But the vendor just rolls his eyes.

Dorothy Bodegraven