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About The Hague

Oh! And once—true story—heard this sailor talk ‘bout a gal named Whore-tense. Swear on me spatula, she was a legend! Worked the docks, owned it—total badass. Kinda like Kee carryin’ that baby through hell. “Keep it alive,” they’d say. Whore-tense did, in her own salty way.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, like, monsoon level. I dash back to the bakery, soaked to the bone. My hair’s a frizzy mess, and I’m like, “Great, just great.” I get back, and my regulars are already there, laughing at my drenched self. They’re like, “Nice look, baker!” I can’t help but laugh too. It’s all in good fun.

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