Amsterdam ll

Well, the Amsterdam trip wasn’t quite all I wanted it to be…there were several costs/expenditures that were a little more than I had planned for, and when I left needed to give my business partner $125 that I had expected to have with me. It was a necessary expense for website/phone upkeep, and definitely worthwhile, but it did unfortunately limit my excursions a bit, mostly to places that were within walking distance of the Red Light.
I was able to see the Anne Frank house, which was really my first stop on the map, and one I would’ve hated to miss. When I was living in Brussels and about eight or nine, we traveled with several other families from the ICA (Institute of Cultural Affairs) house around Europe. We hit Switzerland, France, Germany, Spain, the Netherlands, and a couple of other places. While I vaguely remember the Louvre and all the various castles and pretty sights, the two places we visited that grabbed hold of my spirit and wouldn’t let go were the Anne Frank House and the small concentration camp we visited, . I’ve always been sensitive to energy in general (the double Pisces in me helps), and in both places, it was thick and riveting. The Anne Frank house affected me on such a deep level that not only do I remember it vividly, I still have the original diary we bought there, gingerly taped together and missing a couple of pages here and there. It freaked me out that there was this whole little quiet, terrified world behind that bookcase, and it tripped me out even further that that space was there BEFORE they moved in. I always wondered what it was doing there and what it had been used for previous to harboring the Franks and the others that lived with them. I think I also deeply identified with this girl because she was a child, forced into womanhood years before she was one, leaving behind this legacy that was simply her diary, one of the few friends with which she could share this incredible burden. It affected me just as deeply this time around, and again, I found myself broken down to my most humble components, both by the residual energy of the place, as well as the story itself.

I also saw the Dali museum (insert heavenly chorus here). Dali has always been a huge favorite of mine, and it was almost godly (hence the chorus) to see these pieces in real life. I wasn’t able to see any other art museums, unfortunately, and it would figure that with all my fuckin planning, the one thing I failed to pack was my camera, so there are unfortunately no photos of this trip. But as has already been decided, my girl Leslie and I will be going together, so hopefully then, I’ll be a little more prepared, and will have the time to really see the city in all its splendor. Anyone who wants to make a posse of it, put your name on the list and start saving now!

As previously mentioned, I had to tour the Red Light and do a sex show. Since it was on the very bottom of my list of things to do, I really didn’t do much research on it…then again, what kind of research WOULD you do? It’s pretty self-explanatory, right? Well, we got there, and for the first few songs, we had a couple of the most creative, playful, and enthusiastic strippers I’ve ever seen, and folks, I’ve seen quite a few. It was interesting; these girls really, genuinely enjoyed themselves. It wasn’t the seedy, guilt ridden, perfunctory atmosphere you find in most US clubs. These women were simply empowered and loved what they were doing, and that, in and of itself, made it pretty damn enjoyable. Next – and here’s the part that flew right over my head regarding what to expect – was a couple who actually HAD sex. Now, you’ve seen it once, you’ve done it a few times, so you know the drill. But not only was I surprised by the fact that there was actual sex and fellatio involved, not to mention unprotected, it was the smoothest, most orchestrated sex I’ve ever witnessed. They moved effortlessly and fluidly (no pun intended, it’s just the best descriptive, really) from one position to the next, and they did so in perfect rhythm to the music, making it that much more precisely choreographed and fascinating. This wasn’t the dirty, raw fucking you see in bad porn, but curiously, was at the same time so detached that it was sort of baffling. The only thing I can imagine is that these two sat down with nothing short of storyboards and at least ten hours to practice and get it just right. I don’t know how else to describe it, but it was a bit mind-blowing, to say the least.

The icing on that particular cake, however, was the reactions of the audience, something I relished just as much as the show itself. Remember all those partying frat kids and sorority girls I mentioned earlier? Oh, what amusement!! The men’s jaws dropped to the floor and stayed there long enough for a little drool to escape, and the women immediately found spots either on the floor or the ceiling that suddenly seemed to hold a great deal of interest. After about ten minutes past the foreplay and into the intercourse itself, you could see all the girls nudging their men, clearly urging them to leave, and I’m not kidding when I say half the men took absolutely no notice whatsoever, further angering the girls, some of whom simply got up and walked out. This finally got the attention of their men, who managed to look genuinely wounded that their women were so offended and finally, but VERY reluctantly, got up and followed them out. Then there was me, grinning like a kid with a new toy and going, “Wooooowwwww, cooooooooool, dude!”, but unfortunately, much like the other women, Lorna and Anthea finally had their awkward fill and asked if we could take off and move on with the night. Much like the other men, I was reluctant to do so, but I’d seen enough to write THIS much about it, so I was happy. Lorna and Anthea both said it was part of Amsterdam they’d wanted to experience, and despite the discomfort it brought them, expressed they were glad they’d seen it. It is certainly an experience that brings your inhibitions, conditioning, and prejudices - no matter how mild - crashing to the forefront, and at least in the case of these two, I believe that it made them think in a manner that most of the other women probably didn’t. By the end of my time with Lorna and Anthea, I would have totally asked them to be my BFF if they didn’t live in London. They, along with Patrick, certainly made the trip 150% more enjoyable than it might have otherwise been.

My visit to Amsterdam was entirely too short, but no less worth it. On to Kenya!!