The Death Of The Sheriff

Thailand, Pattaya, 09 Jan. 2012.

I guess I had ample time to dwell upon the miresable death of that street scum no-good nicknamed The Sheriff, on the long and boring flight from Amsterdam to Suvarnibhumi New Airport, east of Bangkok and conveniently closer to Pattaya than the old Don Muang airport which with the passing of years became pretty much a intergral part of greater Bangkok...

Back homer in my house in Amsterdam, the night before my sceduled departure, enjoying a last bottle of my treasured alcoholic beverage, Red Wine, three Euro table wine from Appie Heyn, hoping in vain as it turned out that The Deviler Of My Toilet would keep a low profile, hoping in vain that my night would pass in tranquility before drifting off to a well deserved sleep of the innocent...but no such luck for me during my last evening back home, not with Rob nearly raping my door bell, fried chicken and all that, another bottle of Red Wine as a farewell present...I mean he means well but I JUST WANTED TO BE ALONE< TREASURED ALONE!!!

Not with Cesca on the phone, " Hey Hans, the Sheriff has passed away!", only three weeks ago, never woke up again, not that his miserable death came has a great surprise t most of us, with hime being the Numero Uno Borracho, twenty alu cans of cheap cerveza, a couple of bottles of Vino Tinto a day, hell watever contained alcohol was good to the Sheriff, a pack of tabacco and some little balls of Crack would come in handy as well...

Shit, the first time I heard his nicknamed being mentioned, at least twenty-five years ago, I though he would be a giant of a man, over confident and over muscled, but no, he was a frail and insicnificant individual, always nervously dragging on the wed end of his hand rolled sigarette, nicotine stianed fingers shivering with a near nervous breakdown, always feeling sorry for himself, to a point where a couldn't even fall asleep despite his life wrecking hobbies, instead whining the night aways untill sheer exhaustion and the approach of a new day would find him in a state of couple hours of comastose oblivion....

Shit I can probably forget about the hundert-odd Dutch guilderds he still owned me for what seems like centuries already...at least he died peacefully and painless which was not what one could say of his life..