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About Utrecht

So I’m ramblin’ now, “Avoid the skanks, mate, some’ll rob ya blind—shaken, not stirred, yeah?” He’s edgin’ to the door, clutchin’ his wallet like it’s gold. I yell after him, “Don’t be a wanker, wrap it up!” Total Bond move, savin’ his arse. Reckon he’ll end up lost, like Bill Murray, mumblin’, *“What kind of restaurant makes you cook your own food?”*—but with hookers instead of teppanyaki. What a plonker. Me? I’m back to beepin’ cans, dreamin’ of Tokyo nights.

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We ended up walking down the Zandstraat, and I swear, every shop was having a sale. I got sucked into this vintage store. I found this ridiculous hat that looked like something a pirate would wear. I had to try it on, and Jan was dying laughing. I mean, I looked good, right?