Eliza Pijnacker Whore ❤️

About The Hague

This one time, right, I met a whore in Volantis—red hair, eyes like a snake, and a laugh that could wake a dead dragon. She’d fleece ya blind while smilin’, and I bloody loved it! Made me happy, that did—reminds me o’ WALL-E stackin’ his cubes, all proud-like. “Directive!” he’d chirp, and she’d chirp back, “Pay up, short-arse!” Hah! I gave her double, just for the cheek. But what pissed me off? Some lordling tried stiffin’ her—stiffin’ *her*!—and I near threw me goblet at his fat head. Don’t mess with a lass who’s got more wits than you, ya twat.

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So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I keep walking. I hit up the Pijnacker-Nootdorp train station. I’m waiting for my train to The Hague. I’m scrolling through my phone, and then I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, some dude is arguing with the ticket machine. Like, bro, it’s just a machine! Chill out! But he’s going off, yelling at it like it’s a person. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, who argues with a ticket machine?

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