#stories  


A nonsense story with a social wink.

“Aaltje,” I say to my husband: “We're going to deal with it completely differently than they're ever used to from us.'
“Max,” my husband squeaks back: “You know I always hate you giving me a sass name. Different approach, okay, but don't call me Aaltje, I seem like a piss pole.'
Despite the slight irritation of him, he still has to chuckle at his own replenishment. Aaltje the piss pole. My slightly late-thinning smile doesn't notice him. For years I've been busy holding him in. He didn't even notice it, swallowed every word of mine like sweet apple pie and I only had to spread it around the mouth with flattering bearded lemonade syrup and he was like Vaseline in my hands. I now really have a big finger in semi-skimmed coffee milk porridge, that may be clear.

I made an appointment with the perfect hairdresser to make my smooth Eel look like fliereflutter, quite a big job. But Mari is entrusted. He's done with hubby in just 5 hours and also has a fitting outfit for me. I look approving in the mirror, we really look like a bunch of perfect asos.
No one will recognize us now.
But because I'm not the person to go eleven city ice cream in one night, we walk into our regular lunch cafe for a while, I ask for the holiday card. We are expelled just as hard again with the hautaine announcement that this is not some walk-in house, but a neat establishment for the high-ranking fellow man, we as a bunch of bums do not belong there .
'Uptaken bunch of jerks, 'I cry out before Aaltje reveals our disguise a little silly.

“Come along,” I say to my disowned husband, who is not used to being treated like a piece of dirt. “We have more to do.'
We walk through a back neighborhood, don't stand out here at all.
“We are going to make Jan happy with a visit,” I tell my husband and walk into a squat self-consciously. The astonished 'resident' is shocked when we just invade with him. He falls to his knees when he recognizes me, true origin just doesn't deny himself.
“Please, your Majesty, forgive me my household of Jan Steen, I am eagerly looking for housing and I have been evicted from a house once because, according to neighbors, I made it a chaotic gang and I could no longer raise my rent because of the government's temper. I was no longer able to make use of my social rights. My debts were running too high.'
The man's eyes are distraught and I feel deep in my pouch and get a good amount of wrongful golden handshakes out of it.

With a big generous smile I reach one of them to Jan: 'Here, please, do something fun with it, 'and to my husband: 'Yes Aaltje, every demolition house also has its cross, but not everyone has the same financial status to carry the crosses. We focus our new approach on that. Better distribution of the golden handshakes.'

And so we live happily ever after in a true fairytale society.