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About Breda

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

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So, I finally get to the office on the Kerklaan. It’s a cute little spot, but today? Ugh. My boss, let’s call him Mr. Grumpy Pants, is in a mood. He’s all like, “Where’s the report?” Dude, I just got here! I’m still waking up! But whatever, I dive into my work.

2017 Women Who Mean Business: Jackie DeSouza-Van Blaricum