Diver Gingivitis

Today may have been the strangest day I have experienced thus far. By the time I got to work, I had pages worth of thoughts on the freaky Dutch but those nuggets have drowned in the rest of my bizarre day.

My boss, Marie, put it best. Holland is the most developed third world nation on earth. We ordered pizza for lunch because things are getting hectic at work and none of us wanted to leave for too long. The Dutch love the internet so it was perfectly reasonable for us to expect that we could order a pizza online. Danny, who has lived in Holland off and on for over a year, ordered a pizza from one of the local pizza joints. His confirmation email said, in English, "Your order will be delivered in three to five business days."

I worked a pretty long day, deciding to stay at the office until our weekly, Intern Tuesday Night Drinks. The bar was quintessentially Dutch, weird atmosphere with delicious beers. I didn't like the vibe and left fairly early. My legs and ankles were hurting when I got up from the bar stool. I said this aloud because it came suddenly and kinda scared me. Had the Dutch poisoned my beer with ankle depleting juice? Were my feet going to fall off my legs? It hit me without warning. Jon, my Texan friend, had a diagnosis. "It's Diver Gingivitis, have it in my family."

"Diver Ginvi- you're not serious."

"Yeah, swear to God, Diver Ginginvitis. Sarina, tell him. It runs in my family. What are your symptoms?"

"It hurts, kinda like a bruise."

"Yep, that's it. Diver Gingivitis. You'll be ok."

Five minutes later the pain had subsided and I realized it was just a severe case of my feet falling asleep. Diver Gingivitis. Jon will keep you on your toes.

The strangest and most Dutch part of the night came from the bartender. He was unpleasant all night. They were all unpleasant but this one guy was just ridiculous. I had to wait for twenty minutes or so each time I wanted a drink and the only people in the bar were those in my party. It's not like these guys were overwhelmed with work. After waiting for a good twenty minutes, another bartender took my order and rude bartender walked over near me. Europeans have no concept of personal space so I wasn't worried about him standing almost on top of me. I had just finished drinking my beer and had set my glass on the bar. Without warning, the rude, weird bartender takes my glass and, instead of taking it away, chugs the remaining beer which consisted of a small puddle of my backwash. The Dutch.