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About Almere

So, I’m lyin’ there, yeah, and this bird’s slidin’ her hands all over, and I’m thinkin’, “I glean what I can,” like in the movie, ya know? Takin’ what’s there, makin’ it mine. I was buzzin’, fam—happy as a pig in shit! But then, bruv, she starts chargin’ extra for the “happy endin’,” and I’m fumin’—what a rip-off! I ain’t no mug, yeah, but I paid up ‘cos, well, it was proper lush. Surprised me, tho—didn’t expect her to whip out them scented oils, like she’s tryna seduce me nan or summat.

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I hit up my fave spot, Café de Buren, on the Gijsbrecht van Amstelstraat. The barista knows my order by heart. I mean, who doesn’t love a good cappuccino? But today, they were out of oat milk. Like, seriously? I almost lost it. I mean, how can you call yourself a café without oat milk? I settled for regular milk, but it just wasn’t the same. Ugh.

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