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PEANUTBUTTER GIRL

There is a guy in Huis Marais (his friends call him ‘Moose’) who I have had my eye on for a while.

I first met him in the Neelsie when he was grabbing a Jungle peanut butter bar from Amaboko, and I have been smitten ever since. I made good eye contact with him on the Rooiplein once, and blushed so hard when he greeted me with a cheeky, but firm, “Haazit”. I have had short conversations with him since, but I would really love to get to know him better over a flat white from Pulp (deluxe, of course). Moose, if you are reading this: you may not know it yet, but I will be the jam to your peanut butter, the Gabriella to your Troy, and the Moth to your Lamp. I hope that your taste in women is as good as your taste in oat-based, peanut butter confectionaries.