What are we doing?
May 4th, 1999
Preceding tonight's national remembrance ceremony (for those who died in World War 2), we respectfully honour the living-who-need-to-die. Shortly, but preferrably slowly and painfully (and without having to do anything about it myself, of course, since that's not worth the trouble):
- The guy who used to wait for me on the way home from school (I'm talking secondary here) in order to punch me in the stomach once before letting me continue on my way. His idea of a suitable toll, I guess. Was later arrested for stabbing someone (deadly) on a city bus. I run across him every now and then in really divey bars. He still recognizes me and does his best to evade me. Once I see he's lost the recognition, he'll be in his grave all of a sudden. That's a promise.
- The driver for the Amsterdam municipal transport company who, somewhere in the early nineties, not just chose to drive past me (this was the last run of the night, and I HAD to get to the other side of town), but also hit the large puddle so I had to continue both on foot and totally soaked.
- The NZH busdriver who left me standing at a busstop in the centre of Haarlem in a similar way, sometime in, I believe, 1994.
- The Amsterdam municipal transport busdriver who was removed from his cab by the police, after making such speed across the streetramps that the old lady in the back broke her hip while flying above the seats.
- The Amsterdam tramdriver who got on when I got off, in the early morning, and called me a "snob" because I was wearing sunspecs while there wasn't any sun about. Personally, I deemed this rather logical, since I'd worked until four in the morning and had only slept for two hours. It's incredible my taxes go to jerks like that, too. And I promise y'all, the first Amsterdam municipal transport driver I meet who's on strike to protest against the growing violence on public transport WILL meet a most nasty demise.
- All those fellow countrymen who shop on Saturdays and seem to think that 'haste on a Saturday' is a nonexistent concept. You know, those people who stop all of a sudden, in the middle of a busy street, to admire the view whilst you're trying to pass on foot, doing Mach 2.
- Dutchmen on escalators. To-tal-ly incredible. It is my firm belief that mandatory holidays in London would greatly improve the character and behaviour of my fellow countrymen. Listen carefully. I'll say this only ONCE more: you DON'T remain immobile on the LEFT. You do that on the RIGHT, so that people who need to make more of their day than you do can pass.
- People who are arrogant enough to spout opinions about the life and behaviour of other people, based on first visual impression, and do so loudly enough to make it inevitable to be overheard, on public transport (well, anywhere, basically, but mostly there). Y'all ain't got the faintest. That nigger in the corner with the small sleepy eyes is not a junkie. I know the guy. He's a mentor for Dutchmen with behavioral problems like yerself 90+ hours a week and pays taxes for y'all.
- People who sit on information at work, in order to improve their own chances vs. their colleagues. Instead, of course, of sharing that information and using it to bash the competitor. Mother of God, where the hell is Jean Luc Picard when you need him?
- Me ex and me ex-best friend. Figures, dunnit?
Die horrible deaths, you motherfuckers! And be happy I don't carry a weapon during rush hour. And that I've been raised in a leftist and humanist way. It saves your lives on a daily basis.
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