Get up stand up...
So I'm sitting in a coffeeshop in Amsterdam but I'm not having a coffee.
I have the first floor to myself and I'm sitting on some cushion thing at an open window watching people walk by. There's a fish tank in the corner and a TV showing music videos but with the sound off. Inevitably, the soundtrack to all this is Bob Marley. It's all a bit cliche but what isn't these days.
It takes a few drags before it starts to hit but it hits.
One love...
I look at the fish. One has a huge poop dragging behind it. It's just swimming around with this unending poop coming out of whatever a fish arse is called. I find it repellent and magnetic at the same time and wonder if I could do it in the office.
I'm gonna be iron like a lion in zion...
Some young French hippies walk in and sit in the corner opposite me. I can tell they're French because they are speaking it. I can tell they are hippies because they look it. I don't want to sound presumptuous but unless Ralph Lauren has designed a range of hippy clothes for yuppies then I'm pretty sure that these guys are hippies. I discreetly check for a polo logo just to make sure.
No woman no cry...
The fish are beautiful. The music video is great. Marley is the best ever.
I look out of the window and it all coalesces, it all makes sense... The journey, the wrong turns, the right ones, they have all led me here to this point, this time and this place... and suddenly I think... where is this place again?
Like Clinton, I hope you didn't inhale.
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