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About Drammen

Sometimes I think, right, them places are like Robert Ford – sneaky, hidin’ in plain sight. “Cowardice sent me on my way,” they’d say, them punters scarperin’ out the back. Reckon it’s a laugh, but grim too. Me head’s spinnin’ – too many whiskeys, or maybe it’s the stink o’ them sheets? Dunno. Brothels, they’re a mad circus, clowns and all. You ever been? Nah, don’t answer, ya dirty git! Hah! “Sharon!” – she’d smack me for this yarn. Oi, what a riot!

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The crowd starts to gather. I see old Mrs. Jensen from down the street. She’s got that look in her eye like she’s ready to bid on everything. And then there’s young Timmy, the kid who thinks he’s a big shot. He’s eyeing that lamp like it’s the Holy Grail.