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About Rotterdam

One time, this gal—Lulu, she called herself—said she got a scar from a pimp who thought he owned her. “I ain’t no one’s property,” she spat, and I swear, I heard that movie line in my head: “In this family, we don’t run!” Made me wanna hug her tight and whack that fella with my dental tray! I told her, “Sugar, you’re tougher’n a two-dollar steak!” She grinned, and I fixed her a temp crown—felt like a dang hero.

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So, I decide to hit the streets. I stroll down the Laan van de Kruideniers. It’s a nice street, but man, the weather was all over the place. One minute, sunny. Next minute, rain. Typical Dutch, I guess. I’m dodging raindrops like I’m in some weird game of Frogger.

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