Harper Gorredijk Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nijmegen

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

Prostitution

Finally, I head back home, exhausted but happy. Gorredijk, man. It’s got its quirks, its charm, and a whole lotta surprises. I’m still buzzing from the day, and I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. Who knows? Maybe I’ll spill coffee again. Or maybe I’ll find another dog in a pond. Either way, I’m ready for it!

Ernst DeVries