Hendrik-Ido-Ambacht

The Happy Italy in Hendrik-Ido-Ambacht is a kind of brick barn in a remote field. On the way there, I sit in the back seat of a Toyota Starlet next to some blocks of firewood with folded legs. Relieved, I leave the car after a very painful ride. The driver laughes at me as we walk towards the entrance. I know him and another guy who has yet to show up from the student association we never go to. A failed attempt to make our university life a little more exciting.

Once at the table, I think out loud about why on earth we agreed to eat here. The driver notes that there are only families here and orders a radler with two per cent alcohol, despite having to drive. I call him a daring twenty-something. The evening’s organizer arrives with a big smile. He asks what the Starlet costs.

“That car belonged to my brother. I spent something like 200 euros on parts to fix it, which of course is nothing for a whole car.”

“Oh right. I believe you. Fair enough.”

Against my better judgment, I order the pizza cheeseburger. The organizer orders a pizza prosciutto. A children’s party races past us toward the ball pit. At the table next to us, a mother and son sit staring at their phones eating pasta without saying a word to each other.

My pizza is disgusting. Next to me, I see the organiser scraping the ham, arugula, and Parmesan cheese off his pizza. As he eats a bare piece, I ask him why.

“I thought this was a different kind of pizza.”

“But you could have seen it on the menu.”

“Yeah, touché. Fair enough.”

Afterwards, we drive toward the pool center. The pizza-surgeon speeds off in front of us and drives over a speed bump at way too high a speed. After he barely slows down at a roundabout we lose sight of him. When we take the same exit we see him waiting for us by standing still on the road with hazard lights on.

While playing pool the reckless driver and I play against each other. Every time it is my turn, he says, “Onno, your turn.” I tell them that I have finished my thesis and am therefore as good as finished with my studies.

“I believe you. Fair enough.”

As we drive back to Rotterdam, the driver starts swerving to imitate the driving style of our fellow association member. Out of nowhere, a police car appears behind us and gives the stop signal. The driver has to do a breath alcohol test. Fortunately, the measured amount of alcohol is not too high. The officers give us a warning for now. Before walking back to the car, one of them looks at us intensely: “What are you doing in Hendrik-Ido-Ambacht?”