Why did I ever pick this carreer?

Street derelicts stumbling around my little ambulant street selling places outside the Anne Frank House exit, torn clothes uniformly dirty, the aroma coming off unwashed bodies inescapably entering my nostrils...I know that beneath the grime their skin is white but it is hard to see any bare skin underneath the filth, yellowish fingernails betraying the determined chain smoker, homeless alcoholics and crack addicts, Mary-Jane aficionados as always on a mad hunt for change, attracted by the long queue of foreign visitors to one of Amsterdam's number one tourist hot spots...

The anne Frank security people deperaately trying to scare them all away but the moment their guard drops the puking smell in my Farang nostrils making it clear they are back with a vengeance even before my Dutch blue shiners discern them...

I wanna think of far-away Thailand and its many attractions, open-air food courts, the tasty smell of fish sauce and countless other culinary street food aromas, my thirst quenched by cold to the touch condensed bottles of Leo beer, rising steam coming off barbequed Khung and Plamuk...

I wanna think of friendly smiling oriental people instead of sitting here in good old Mokum once again surrounded by street urchins and tourists that don't buy my funny little games...

Another summer of listening to nutcase street nonsense screaming obscenities at unseen antagonists, losers with no future...