I am not an Amsterdam elitist. Some misguided individuals, accuse me of having lost touch with my roots. They say, Shallow Man, you live in an apartment in the Pijp area of Amsterdam paid for by your organisation. You eat in Michelin star restaurants, wear bespoke suits and shoes, you wear designer clothes and use luxury lotions and aftershave, in short, they accuse me of being out of touch with my fellow man.
Well I couldn’t disagree more with such assertions and as proof of this I call forward the following exhibits for consideration by an impartial and unbiased jury of my peers.
I walk to my local Supermarket. I even take time to pass through the things to put on bread section. There is even peanut butter in my pantry.
If anyone has any doubts that I’m definitely not an Amsterdam elitist, please note that in spite of hating the patronizing TV commercials for the Albert Heijn supermarket that appear to assume that all of their customers are sad, brain dead, hopeless, simple minded, jelly eating morons with a mental age of ten or less I still shop there. That’s in spite of all fruit purchased there self destructing almost on the way home from the supermarket. If you wish to aid the fruit fly Eco system, purchase fruit from AH and leave it unattended in your apartment, penthouse or palace for a few hours. I guarantee that fruit flies will be holding orgies and dogging events in your very own fruit bowl and their population will multiply.
I take my own clothes to the dry cleaners and collect them myself. Something an Amsterdam elitist would never do
I call my cleaner by his first name
I use public transport. Even the metro from Amstel to Arena and share my space with people eating fast food wirh their mouths open. All within sight and smell of the shallow man and I don’t complain.
I need to get back to GTA five. Hou Je Bek.