Spotted sellotaped to the tram stop at Koningspein in Amsterdam:
I foresee two possible outcomes.
One will result in a very touching scene between a father and son a few years from now when the inquisitive young boy asks how mummy met daddy. The proud father will put his paper and pipe down, pick up the young boy and sit him down on his knee. As they sit together next to the fire in the father’s favourite old leather armchair he starts to tell his son a most wonderful story about a romantic search across an entire city to find the girl who had quite unexpectedly taken his breath away one summer day on tram number five. It is the kind of epic love story that poems and novels are written about. It is a story that stays with the young boy. It shapes and forms many of his own thoughts and ideas about love which eventually lead to him meeting his own wife many more years later… and then, a few more years later still, it is a story he tells to his own children about how grandmother met grandfather…
That or a lengthy court case resulting in a restraining order. It could go either way.
This photo was taken in the American Book Center on Spui. The crime section had become a crime scene after an argument over the last copy of Baantjer’s latest book got slightly out of hand. The investigation has concluded from the body’s position that the victim still tried to grab the paperback even during his final moments. Police are calling it the strongest book recommendation they have ever seen.
Have you ever done something on an impulse and never thought about the repercussions until it is too late? On Thursday I did just that. On Thursday I bought a mop.
I know this hardly sounds like earth shattering news. In fact it probably sounds like the only possible repercussion of buying a mop is that I would have to mop something such as a floor. However, while I was standing in Blokker and handing over 15 euros for the new floor cleaning device I forgot to take into account that I cycle to work from the train station. I remembered this fact later when I was standing outside my office, looking at my two wheeled transport with fresh new mop in one hand and bike keys in the other at the end of the day.
This provided a unique challenge. A unique challenge for me anyway since I am English and don’t have the super human like Dutch ability to carry anything and everything with me as I cycle. I thought about it for a moment and decided I was going to give it a go anyway.
What followed was what I can only describe as a jousting charge through the streets of Amsterdam which made me feel like shouting out loud, “Cycle men! Cycle casually into battle! Cycllleeeeeee!,” as I led the imaginary charge of my imaginary army.
The streets of Amsterdam are no longer safe.
Tourists jumped out of the way for fear of a drive by buffing, cats hissed at me as I passed and speed bumps presented an interesting balancing challenge which almost made me crash twice. I still had to stop from trams though since I doubted they would be intimidated by my mop.
Can’t challenge a tram…
…but that cyclist is going to get it!
Despite all these obstacles I made it successfully to central station and locked my mighty steed into the bike racks. I tried to do a cool victory spin with the mop and almost smacked myself in the face. After making sure no one had noticed I made my way to the train with mop in hand.
During the train journey I must have looked like a lazy NS cleaner ignoring his responsibilities.
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