Wandering in the laberinth of lustfull intentions

Amsterdam,  Jan. 2014.

An ex-wife is most certainly not a relative, nor are one night stands in the Dutch capital by yours truely, Pauvre Moi trying to bolster my ego and self-confidence by hitting the infamous Amsterdam Red Light District bars, the pick-up joints in the heart of the Dutch capital according to Tony Wheerer's Lonely Planet hard and furiously, with a sort of determination born by another week long nocturnal torment, if my number of Back On The Bicycle Riding Home excursions - not alone, mind you dear reader of this blog - were an indication to my number of relatives I would have more of these stinking money grabbing family members as customers at the world famous Anne Frank House during summer...

Not tonight though sitting at the leidestraat Mc. Donald Hamburger joint watching Paulina finishing her native American born Double Cheeseburger, juice from the meat, slimy mayo and bits of tomato dripping between her sausage like fingers, licking the stuff from her knucles like a kid, jaw muscles moving feverishly while chewing another hunk of greasy substitute meat, listening to her talk about the good old US of A, how all the jews own the banks and the Italians are all good for nothing mob members...

I listen patiently, the sort of patience gathered from listening to numerous American tourists feeling comfortable in this little invasion of American crazy food culture on Dutch soil, watching Miss Fatty Paulina pay the bill with the inevitable platina credit card company proof of millionaire status, wondering silently where she managed to get one of these highly sought after plastic crapper shits, maybe a crooked employee she bribed with a pair of balck nylon stockings as she did with Miss Receptionist back at her hotel on the Fredericksplein last X-mas when first I met her...

Wondering silently if tonight I should play the saint, do not wander in that laberinth of lustfull intentions by this nutty female tourist from across the big blue waves, let her snigger or crackle in her self-misguided anticipation, it takes more than a Mc Donald's Double Cheeseburger to get me going in the wrong direction, diet free coke free of charge does not make me waver my self-doubt...