Vanessa Klundert Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rotterdam

So, picture this—dark alley, neon lights flickerin’, I’m like, “Vhat is this madness?” Smell o’ stale beer, fishy vibes—ugh, makes me wanna puke, so angry! Then, “Lightbulb!”—I remember this ol’ story, little known, yeah? Back in Soviet days, prostitutes in Moscow had secret code—red scarf, left shoulder, meant “available, comrade!” Sneaky, huh? I’m thinkin’, “Do they still do that?” Nah, probly not, but I’m checkin’ shoulders anyway—nuthin’. Disappointin’, but I laugh, “Hah! Gru, you dumb genius!”

ज्यादा पठित

After what feels like forever, we corner him near the Klundertse Haven. He’s just standing there, looking all innocent. I’m like, “Dude, you know you messed up, right?” He just shrugs. I can’t even be mad. I mean, he’s just a kid. But still, I give him a lecture about respect and all that jazz.

Ann KLUNDERT