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About Eindhoven

So, how’s it work? You cruise, you spot ‘em—heels high, skirt short, eyes sharp. Or ya text some shady number from a burner phone. “No calls after midnight,” one told me—pissed me off again. I’m like, “What, you got a curfew?” Sarcasm’s my shield, man. But when it clicks? Oh, it’s gold. Hooked up once, chick was a riot—laughed at my tie, called it “grandpa style.” I was dyin’—humor in the hustle, who knew?

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, rain like it’s the end of the world. We’re all scrambling, trying to cover the equipment. I’m soaked, and my mood? Not great. I’m thinkin’, “Why did I choose this job?” But then, I see this rainbow peeking through the clouds. I’m like, “Okay, universe, I see you.”

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