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About Eindhoven

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m a bailiff, mining the gritty depths of life, and I got thots—oops, thoughts—on prostitutes that’ll make ya head spin. Judge Judy style, baby—sharp as a tack, no fluff! Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain, I see through the crap. So, prostitutes, huh? Been around forever, like dirt on my boots. Makes me think of *In the Mood for Love*—that slow burn, that ache, y’know? “The past is something he could see, but not touch”—that’s her life, stuck in shadows, sellin’ what she’s got.

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Betty has been a recovering prostitute on and off for four years and wants to convince women who still sell their bodies that there is a better way.

So, I’m fuming, right? I’m walking past the old church on the Markt, and I see this cute little café. I think, “Hey, coffee will fix this.” I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a wild beard, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Dude, really?” But he just laughs it off. I mean, I get it, we all have those days.

Dorothy Bodegraven