To the Men of the Hostels in Holland (You Ruin My Life and I Hate You)

Dear Men in Holland Hostels,
Hi there men in Holland hostels! You probably don't remember me but I sure as hell remember you. Now, don't take that as a compliment, because it most certainly is not. See... there was that time you decided to sleep on you back, shirtless, like you were lounging on your Australian beaches. Not only did that make you look like an ass, it made you sound like an ass. Literally. You sounded like a barking, braying, snorting horrid ass. To make matters worse, another one of you asses decided to enter into a sleep-ridden snoring and snorting competition with the first one of you. It made for a simply horrid first night in Holland.

You ruin my life and I hate you.

Then there were those things when these large South American hords of you stormed the room. Do you know what you lot did? Do you know?!? I'll tell you what you did. The moment I reached the line between life and dream, that lovely cusp, you destroyed my world. Flipping on lights, chattering on and on in Portuguese and Spanish, thumping, bumping and canoodling around the room at 3am. The worst of you was you, mu bed neighbor. What did you do? You threw your coat on me and sat on my feet. Yes, you did, don't deny it. And I'm pretty sure I was clearly in that bed, and seeing as you and your awful friends turned on the lights, I knew your eyes could see just find.

You ruin my life and I hate you.

What else do you do? Well, let me tell you. You stick up the room with your dirt and your sprays. You throw yours things around every which way. You let in strangers, forget your keys and chatter no matter what time of day. And then, of course, we'll never forget, that you snore and snore and endlessly endlessly snore.

You ruin my life and I hate you.

Of course, that was just in the bedroom. When we enter the bar the creepers come out, the drunks, the stoners, the weirdos and all. You lot are endless and hard to define 'cause you're fat and you're skinny, you're young and you're old, you're Irish, Israeli, American and more. You're unshakeable, persistant and horribly awful. You make me uncomfortable.

You ruin my life and I hate you.

I know I sound harsh, brutal and mean, or maybe simply judgmental. I will gladly admit there were lovely men, and there were plenty of horrible women. Yet the point of my letter remains at the end. To the men of the hostels in Holland, there's just one thing I want you to know.

That you ruin my life and I hate you.

Love,

Amelia B Hanson