What are we doing?
May 5th, 1999 Cursing. Out loudly. Here's why. The past two days were nice and quiet. Yesterday I attended the remembrance ceremony by the Resistance Memorial on the Dreef in Haarlem, and today I enjoyed liberty like it should be (albeit at work, since it's only a day off once every five years). Bummer to follow though. Let me paint you the situation. Because I'm smitten with their music, I made haste to get from Amsterdam to the Liberty Rockfestival in Haarlem, so as to be in time to catch Acda en de Munnik live. Which I did, to my great pleasure. Of course, my mood was down in the doldrums since, when attending major affairs like these within Haarlem, I'm perpetually terrified at the thought of running into my ex or ex-best friend, for the bad that might ensue. This did not happen. What did happen was this: inadvertently, I'd stopped in front of a girl a headlength shorter than myself. So I blocked her view without knowing or wanting to. Now, if she'd only patted me on the shoulder and asked me to move my body out of her view, I would most certainly have done so. But she didn't. Instead, she and her companions (two ladies, three gents, as far as I could discern) started to loudly call me an asshole, behind my back, as if I weren't present at all. Not a hair on my head, of course, which thought of cooperating in the least at that stage. So, I remained firmly in place. Which led to yelling and screaming in my direction. No reaction on my part. Then pushing. Same. But at that point, IF I would have turned around, the pusher in question would have ended up in a hospital ward straight away. I didn't turn around. So one of the gentlemen in question decided to get me in a different way and proceeded to relieve me of the wallet in my inside pocket. Without me noticing and with great expertise, I must admit. I only noticed after the fact, when he proudly exclaimed: "Look!" in the direction of his friends. Pointing at me, not the wallet, since that had already been passed on to his mates. Not a hair on my head, of course, which thought of flooring this dude on the spot. Well, all my hairs were actually thinking of that, naturally, but if you strike someone down at a mass rally of several thousands of people, you end up with a stupendous brawl before you know it. Not my idea of fun or efficiency. And so, I did nothing. And I do wish this group loads of fun with my railpass, (blocked) bankpass, busticket, NS reductioncard, (blocked) entrypass for NetCast, roundabouts sixty guilders and, last but not least, businesscards. But because they remained in place for at least another half hour, their faces are etched into my mind, and if you'll be so good as to check yesterday's entry within this section, you know what I'm going to do with that knowledge. Have a nice day. Previous episodes:
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