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About Almere

I’m chattin her up, tryna figure her deal. She’s dodgy—keeps it vague, like she’s hidin a Stasi file. “What’s your name, sweetness?” I ask, leanin in all Hannibal-style. “Candy,” she says, smirkin. Candy—ha! Bet that’s fake as my last paycheck. Makes me mad, tho—why lie? Just be real, damn it! But then she winks, and i’m like, “Alright, ya got me.” Happy as a kid with candy—ironic, huh?

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After the museum, Jeroen and I hit up this pub on de Havenweg. It’s cozy, and the beer is flowing. We’re reminiscing about the good ol’ days, and I’m feeling all nostalgic. But then, this group of tourists comes in, and they’re LOUD. Like, can you not? I’m trying to enjoy my beer, not listen to your life story!