What kind of trouble could I possibly get into with 8 hours to play around in Amsterdam's Red Light District?
I'll let you know.
Share your stories here....or make them up. Who could possibly verify them?
With red light districts? yeah. I was with a female friend of mine in soho because we were walking to a really nice museum (I'm not bullshitting, there's a huge museam right near soho). And we walk through a medium size store bc it's a shortcut and a the friend stops and is in awe of this electrosex-dildo-thingy. She doesn't leave until i buy it for her. The guy at the counter gave me the weirdest look.
Just go fuck a lot of whores and tell us about it.
I never left the airport when I was in Amsterdam (and I had a toddler with me) but I still managed to get "into trouble". I guess you're allowed to bring one bottle of real Absinthe back. But the lady told me she'd sell me five, so I bought five. I had it in my head I would stuff it into my bags before Customs (because in Amsterdam airport all your liquid needs to be in a sealed bag to board the plane, I couldn't rearrange it after buying it). Anyway, suffice it to say that I was in a clusterfuck of jetlag induced confusion by the time I got to Customs and I could only jam two of the five bottles into a carry on, and I was afraid they'd see me if I jammed it into my checked bags after I got them, so I put the bag with the three bottles of absinthe between my two checked bags. When I got to the customs desk he says "you bringing anything back?" and I held up a bag of English chocolates and said "Just chocolate". And that was that.
A lot of nerves for nothing.
Take home message: US Customs doesn't give a shit.
Did you drink the absinthe and if so, what was it like?
@aliensoul77: I've had absinthe before with and without the sugar and it tastes like black licorice. Last time I had it I ended up in a bed lying next to a naked mannequin.
Is a red light district anything like a K-Mart Red Light Special?
@Rogan--did the mannequin talk to you?
@aliensoul77: I think I may have talked to it more than it talked to me, I must've said something to it in order for it to end up in the same bed as me. Most of that night was a blur. Besides the mannequin, my glasses were gone, my shirt was ripped, and I found a note in my shoe about a week after the party.
What did the note say? And what does your chest look like? I mean, ripped how? and by whom?
The two bottles I didn't give away are in my liquor cabinet awaiting an evening where my toddler is away with gramma for the night.
Wait. No. I do not intend to drink two bottles in one night.
@Rogan, was it the European stuff or the stuff they sell in the US? Apparently the stuff in Amsterdam is still a bit stronger than the stuff in the rest of the EU, which...you know...big surprise. I'm a little giddy to get to try it, but this having a kid stuff is complex.
@Sparrow: Sadly it was the US absinthe and not the European. I'd like to try the European though even after my experience with the US. Here's a tip though, never chase absinthe with tequila.
Oh jesus. I'll keep that in mind.
Okay, so I just made it back to the hotel. My adventure went as such....and no judging you judgers;
Arrive Amsterdam via motor coach, attempt (successfully) to buy disposable cellular, have two pints, meet up with group for tour through red light district, have two more pints, leave group, smoke...stuff, drink four more pints, smoke...stuff again, get tattoo of snoopy dancing, drink four more pints, hook up with woman who has the same profession as Julia Roberts, drink two more pints, meet up with friend, smoke...stuff, drink I don't know how many pints and shots, catch bus back to airport, realize I'm not flying home, get cab to hotel, write this post.
That is all that happened.
...the kind I'd like to meet...
Snoopy dancing? Really?
@Renee--tell me if you see the green fairy. Better yet, drink the absinthe and write a story while you are on it.
get tattoo of snoopy dancing
get tattoo of snoopy dancing
Consider yourself judged.
I am laughing my fucking ass off over the Snoopy tattoo! Oh man...pics? Please?
@Danny--oh, that is a good idea.
The pics will come when I return to the states. Until then use your imaginations.
Dancing Snoopy is one of my favourite things. When you post a picture of it, I can almost guarantee I'll instantly start singing the Xmas song.. you know... "loo loo loo, loo loo loo loooooooo *deep breath* loo loo loo, loo loo loo loooo"
I got really drunk and saw flashing lights a few times.
Ich weiss es nicht, aber der reeperbahn war echt toll.
I spent 4 days in Amsterdam last May, right in the heart of the red light district and across the street from a doner kebab. I indulged in the legalities and spent plenty of time hanging out my window watching the streets and their obvious entertainments. On day one, I honed in on the specific pepperoni lay out on a few of the sausage sandwiches for display. On day two, those same sausage sandwiches lay in the same place. When I left two days later, they hadn't moved. These were not display sausages, the sandwiches near them were being picked and consumed. It's just that the sausages I had identified and gave occular tags had not been picked for consumption. I have a feeling when I left Amsterdam those sausages were not thrown out but were just waiting for the wrong customer.
As it turns out, STDs are not what you should fear most in the Red Light District. Beware of the Doner Kebabs.
I am bumping this, because I don't want Doc to think for a moment we've forgotten about his Snoopy tattoo.
Otis, so you thought about the sausage a lot? Do you like sausage? How did the sausage make you feel?
Oh, yeah. I think about sausage pretty much non-stop. I like sausge of all ethnicities. I really don't descriminate. They come in so many different varieties, shapes, sizes and flavors. I'll take any sausage I can get my hands on, really. Sometimes, I like them between warm buns. This particular sausage, this dutch sausage, it didn't really appeal to me. It made me uncomfortable. Mostly, because nobody wanted this sausage. So why should I? This is predictable bullshit male pysche, but I want the sausage that everyone else is drooling over. I don't apologize for that.
(and this my writer friends, is a lesson in heavy-handedness. LitReactor provides learning opportunites at every twist & turn)
Now post a music file of you singing the christmas song.
Am I the only one that has decided this tattoo is on his ass? And will be really, really disappointed if it isn't on his ass?
I mean...you don't tattoo a dancing Snoopy on your bicep...do you?
Dancing Snoopy has to be on a muscle that jumps when you flex... so the ass would be perfect. If he has good pecs, that would work. Bicep maybe.
Or if you're fat, you could put him on your belly and he'd dance along with you as you wiggle and jiggle and do the truffle shuffle.
I just realized that I asked to see it, and then I said I hoped it was on his ass. I think I just asked Doc to show me his ass... Is that weird?
Not for this site.
I was thinking bikini line, myself.
I hope its on his inner thigh.
It is on my right ankle. Sorry to disappoint you all.
By the way, Venice is the most awesome place at night. Fucking amazing.
I bet, when you get home, share pics of that, too!
Did you get the penis tat that says: THANKS FOR VISITING EUROPE, PLEASE COME AGAIN TO THE EIFFEL TOWER AND SEE ALL OUR WONDERFUL SIGHTS!
^No pictures of that, please.
Speak for yourself. I want to see a that damn tattoo!
My penis tat would probably only get 'Thanks," and the 's' would be on the balls.
Awesome. If I could go back in time, I'd want to meet Snoopy.
Nobody knows this, but I'm a whore at heart.
Ha! I didn't realize it was a series of dancing Snoopys. That is great!
You are such a manly man lol
Well somebody had to be the child around here. We have too many adults and not enough children.
Yes, that's the problem here, too many adults...
I went to Amsterdam with a bunch of mates from work as my "leaving do".
We all had shared cabins with bunk beds for the ferry trip over from the UK but instead of going to bed I stayed up drinking Southern Comfort. At this point in my life I had no watch (and it was before mobile phones) but I knew it was getting late when I finally slinked off to bed.
As I was getting undressed and climbing into bed I had the following conversation with my bunk mate:
"Rob, what time do we have to get up?"
"What time is it now?"
"Five to 7"
I was so tired that 5 minutes later he did have to wake me up.
After arriving in Amsterdam and checking in to the hotel we headed to the red light district. While he was visiting one of the ladies I waited outside in the street. As I stood there I was approached by a very seedy, pretty rough looking dude.
"Do you want to buy some cocaine?" he asks, getting a folded paper package out of his grimy pocket.
"No thanks" I reply.
He puts the packet away and gets out his knife. "OK give me your Guilders or I shtab you".
Maybe I could have run or fought or said "No" but I didn't. I gave him my Guilders.
One of our party somehow got lost between the ferry and the coach to the hotel. As the work's social club had organised everything he had no idea where we were staying so got a cab to the red light district and wandered around hoping to bump into us. We found him asleep in the gutter.