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About Almere

So, picture this—me, Larry, hirin’ an escort. Strollin’ into some swanky joint, her in a red dress, me in my suspenders. “Sorta like a dream, huh?”—that’s from *Inherent Vice*. But then, bam, she’s quotin’ Shakespeare, and I’m like, “Whoa, didn’t see that comin’!” Happened once, swear—met this gal, escort type, at a party. She knew more about Nixon than me! Freaked me out, happy shock, ya know?

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Then, I decide to take a stroll down the Wilhelminastraat. It’s a nice street, but man, the traffic is insane! Cars zooming by like they’re in a race or something. I’m dodging left and right, feeling like I’m in some kind of video game. I almost get hit by a bike! Like, dude, chill! It’s not the Tour de France!

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