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About Eindhoven

I’m chattin’ her up, casual-like, “Oi, love, what’s the deal?” She’s cool, sassy, says, “50 quid, no funny biz.” I’m thinkin’, *Hurt Locker* style—“The rush of battle is a potent addiction”—and mate, I’m hooked already! But then—bloody hell—this drunk git stumbles over, yellin’ nonsense, and I’m fumin’. “You shall not pass, you filthy wanker!” I bellow, staff or no staff, I’m ready to deck him. She laughs, says, “Chill, Gandalf, I’ve seen worse.” That cracks me up—happy as a hobbit with a pint.

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Finally, I head to the park near the Koepoortsweg. It’s a nice spot to chill. I plop down on the grass, and just as I’m about to sketch again, it starts to rain! Like, seriously? I’m running for cover, laughing at the absurdity of it all. I duck under a tree, and there’s this cute dog just chilling there. We bond over the rain.

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