My girlfriend wanted to try all this Airbnb shenanigans sometime, I had my doubts . The clammy buttocks of an unknown on our toilet seat ? The urine of a stranger softly clattering against our shower drain ? Two Canadian tourists recklessly fucking on the kitchen table where our son normally draws or playdohs non-existent animals? I thought it was all a bit much, but yeah, behind every strong woman is a very flexible man .
The month of August was fully booked within a week. " But where are we going to stay? " I asked.
"We're going to Delfzijl for a month. To my mother." my girlfriend replied.
Delfzijl , it is a place name that suggests any kind of progress, however Delfzijl remains in 1984 forever. When you drive towards it , you can already see the flats. These architectural STDs full of rusty suicide balconies.
The flats in Chernobyl pity the flats in Delfzijl . On the eighteenth floor a German is smoking a rollie. He looks at the sea, the sea looks back at him. The sea is trying to turn around , it does not want to see this, but reversing itself is not working.
Less than two hours later, the balcony - German is walking into the sea. A beer belly hangs over his genitals as a cup made of bacon. The man urinates his bladder empty into the water. Schultenbrau beer and sausage moisture.
The sea wants revenge . A three meter high wave roars on the balcony - German and swallows him. The man gasps for air. His life flashes by in front of his eyes.
Schultenbrau beer and sausage moisture.
He comes up again.
I look at him from the boulevard. The man wipes his wet hair over the bald part of his skull and walks out of the sea defeated. The balcony - German waves to the fish truck . The fish truck stops. He orders four servings of fish and chips.
Seagulls screech blame. A palm tree asks me if I can put him out of his misery. He doesnt belong here, he says. He feels like a Brazilian dancer in a mormon town.
The wind blows hard, but everything remains in place, so the wind just does not blow not hard enough. The owner of an all-you-can-eatrestaurant places a sign on the sidewalk. Something about schnitzels and cocktails.
My son is looking for shells that he can give to his mother. I stand beside him and look at the sky. The sky is full of kites. I do not like kiters. I always hope that the string breaks and the kite can escape.
I look at the sea, but what is the sea looking at? The tourists have sea views, but what is the sea overlooking? A complete and utter lack of pizzazz. A seaside resort that is a faulty hourglass. Palm trees with homesickness and flats secretly hoping for a tsunami. Delfzijl. The place that taught me that humans are much crueler than mother nature. And that we should maybe be a little proud of that.
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