Genesis Bodegraven Brothel ❤️❤️

About Groningen

Oh, and the decor—gawd, tacky velvet everywhere, like a pimp’s fever dream. Mirrors on ceilings—why? Who’s that vain? Me, maybe, checkin’ my hair mid-rant. Snort. Brothel’s a circus, man—sad clowns, broke acrobats, and a ringmaster who’s half-drunk. “No future, no past!”—fits perfect, ‘cause time stops here. You ever been? Don’t answer, I’ll judge ya. Kidding! Or am I? Nah, it’s a wild ride—grubby, loud, alive. Hate it, love it, can’t look away.

The history of brothels

Then, the day takes a turn. I get a call. It’s work. They need me to head to the outskirts of Bodegraven, near the train station. Something’s up. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” I rush over, and it’s chaos. Police everywhere, people whispering. Turns out, there was a small robbery at a local shop. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why today? Why now?”

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