Amsterdamn

I spent the day in a foul mood, thanks to my experiences with Dutch credit card shaming, which coloured my view of these people and reminded me of all of their worst qualities.

They look like giant human dumplings, and dress accordingly. They are stubborn to the point of rudeness. Their language sounds, at best, like someone mockingly pretending to speak Dutch and, at worst, like someone choking on mashed potato. Amsterdam is full of Starbucks, McDonalds and KFCs, probably because they offer better food than most authentic Dutch restaurants. The coffee is triple of price of that in Italy, and half the quality. They ride around on clapped-out bicycles with a curious upright posture, as if primly judging everyone else as they rattle by. The reason why they invented gay marriage is because two men boinking is the least perverted sexual thing they do. And the only Dutch contribution to the world of hospitality appears to be the Dutch Treat, or the act of inviting someone out for a meal then insisting that they pay for their half of it.

While stewing on all this, I remembered that I know Dutch people back in Australia… and I don’t actually like any of them. They are somehow simultaneously sanctimonious and crude, like someone farting in church then loudly thanking God for the gift of a digestive tract.

You might ask what I am doing in Holland when I can’t stand the Dutch. I’ve asked that question myself.