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About The Hague

Here’s the deal—I’d roll up, slow-like. “Hey, hon, you good?” I’d ask. She’d probably laugh—rough, smoky laugh. “Tainted love,” she’d mutter, like Eve in the movie. Ain’t that a kick? Life’s beat her down, but she’s still kickin’. Little known fact—lotta these gals, they’re artists. Drawin’, singin’—hidden talents, buried under the hustle. Surprised me first time I heard it.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring rain. Like, seriously? I’m soaked in seconds. Jeroen and I are laughing, trying to find shelter under a tree, but it’s not working. We look like drowned rats. I’m thinking, “This day can’t get any worse.”