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About The Hague

So, check this—back in the ‘80s, escorts were legit sneaky. Little known fact: some worked for spies! Cold War stuff, man, they’d charm secrets outta dudes over martinis. Ain’t that nuts? I’m like, whoa, happy as a pig in mud hearin’ that. But then—D’oh!—it pisses me off too, ‘cause some folks judge ‘em hard. Like, “Oh, scandal!” Get over it, Marge-types! It’s a job, pays better than flippin’ burgers.

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So, I’m sippin’ my coffee, and I see this old dude, Jan, who’s always hangin’ around. He’s got this wild beard, looks like he’s been lost in the woods for a decade. He starts tellin’ me about his cat, Minoes. Apparently, Minoes caught a mouse, and Jan’s all proud. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a cat. That’s what they do.” But hey, it made me chuckle.

Unveiling of plaque and mural at Antoni van Leeuwenhoek's birthplace