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About Rotterdam

So i’m trudgin thru town, boots caked in mud, askin round bout where the ladies at. Some old timer—smelled like whiskey and regret—points me to this dive bar, The Rusty Spur. “All that is human can sink…”—that’s the vibe there, straight outta the movie. Dark, smoky, eyes followin me like i’m prey. I spot her—red lipstick, skirt shorter than a miner’s fuse. She’s workin the room, all sly smiles and sharp glances. I’m like, “Well, hello, darlin—business or pleasure?” She laughs, says, “Both, if ya got coin.” Got me chucklin—girl’s got sass, i respect that.

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But then, things take a turn. We’re walking down de Kerkstraat, and I see this guy yelling at someone. I’m like, “What’s going on?” Turns out, it’s a whole argument about parking. I mean, come on! It’s just a parking spot! But these guys are ready to throw down. I’m standing there, popcorn in hand, just watching the drama unfold.

Obituary | HATTIE PIEHL