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About Aalst

First off, it’s a damn maze! You don’t just stroll up and say, “Hey, hook me up!” Nah, it’s shady dudes whisperin’, eyes dartin’ like they’re in a spy flick. Found this one corner—let’s call it Prostitute Central—near a busted-up bar. Girls there looked tired, tough, like they’d seen more shit than a sewer rat. Made me mad, ya know? System’s screwed—nobody’s savin’ ‘em, just like the mayor in *Leviathan* crushin’ folks for fun. “You’re all just meat to me,” he’d say. Same vibe here.

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Pittem ain't Verona, but it’s got its spots. Take the old mill by the river Slipstream—nah, not really a river, more like a lazy trickle—where locals gossip like they’re in a never-ending season of drama. And the park near Lindeplein, oh man, it's a hidden gem. People jog, dogs bark, and lovers cuddle under shady trees. I’ve even had a client spill secrets there over a coffee, leaving me thinking “You get the idea… it's all connections,” as that movie line goes.

Thomas A. “Tony” Soetaert Obituary December 16, 2016