Oh yes. We went there. Went there real good.
Remember that post I wrote way back in 2013 about visiting Berlin with our awesome friend, Looney Tunes? Well that dude came and visited us again, so my wife and I took his ass to Amsterdam — also known as the ‘Venice of the North,’ according to the Google search I just did.
Let me tell you, we had an awesome time. An awesome time. Holy mother of God, I would pack up my shit and move to Amsterdam right now if only my wife would release my balls from her purse. (Just kidding, Honey! I love you!) And I’m not totally sure why we had such an amazing time, but here are the top 10 contributing factors:
- I had really low expectations. I was basically picturing one big, disgusting Reeperbahn street.
- The weather was phenomenal. It rained on us once or twice, but overall it was unseasonably nice.
- We stayed in the De Pijp neighborhood. This meant we were surrounded by excellent restaurants and could walk to all the major destinations, especially downtown.
- The people were super cool. I mean, of course we ran into a few assholes, but overall the Dutch were noticeably kind to us.
- The city itself was very chill. Normally, I’m put off by cities in general — noise, filth and large groups of people make me nervous — but not Amsterdam; I found it calm, quiet and progressive. There was a sense of open-mindedness and a thread of humor woven throughout the city, and I felt right at home.
- Art is everywhere. Amsterdam is one hell of an artistic city. Amazing art and design can be found everywhere, especially in the crazy number of museums and galleries around town.
- Amsterdam is beautiful. Unlike many cities in Germany, Amsterdam wasn’t blown to shit during WWII. They took one day of bombing and said, “Fuck it,” which preserved countless old buildings and landmarks you can see to this day.
- Looney Tunes is one of our very best friends. We love him. Where he goes, fun follows. If you’re going to visit Amsterdam, you gotta do it with people you love. This might be the most important point on this list.
- Marijuana is legal. More on this in an upcoming blog post.
- Prostitution is legal.
Now, I’ve talked about legalized prostitution before, and while I’ve never personally indulged in the Devil’s Candy, I firmly believe it should be legalized everywhere. I grew up in the States, where it’s almost entirely illegal, and moved to Germany in 2012, where it’s both legal and regulated by the government. I can tell you based upon observation alone there are fewer sexual hangups here. It’s not a cocksman’s paradise or anything, but you don’t get that weird, prudish intensity from everybody when a little skin is on display.
Take sex in advertising, for example. In the States, if you slap a pair of naked hoots on a billboard, people will start driving into the median like cartoon characters following a painted traffic line. (I know I would have. You gotta crane your neck and memorize that shit.) But here in Europe, no one really cares. Nudity isn’t held back so strongly, and sex isn’t repressed to the same extent. As a result, there’s much less sexual anxiety for the general population to deal with. I hate anxiety. So if some dude wants to step behind the red curtain and get his doorknob polished, I say go for it, buddy. Godspeed.
But while we were in Amsterdam, I obviously had to talk to one of the sex workers. (I mean, right?) So while the three of us were strolling through “De Wallen” (or “De Walletjes”) — the largest and most famous red-light district in Amsterdam — I took several shots of whiskey, one big rip off a joint, turned on the Voice Memos app on my iPhone and approached the red-curtained windows like the most obvious tourist in the world. I was incredibly nervous, for some reason, and my heart was pounding really hard. I spotted a surprisingly hot brunette lady in red lingerie standing behind one window and walked up to her. She kind of pointed to my hand and waved me off, but I pretended not to know why, like the complete and total asshole I am. (But I swear, I just wanted to get her voice on tape so you’d know I wasn’t making this shit up! I wasn’t going to take her picture or anything! God damn!) Anyway, she opened the door a little and said something in such a heavy accent I honestly did not understand her. Her intent was perfectly clear, however, so I looked at my phone like I’d never seen it before. “Oh, this?” I said, all wide-eyed and innocent. And right at that moment, some helpful citizen walked by and said, “She wants you to to put your phone away.” I apologized to the young woman and scampered back to my wife and friend like a little bitch.
“Well, she saw that coming a mile away,” I said, dropping my iPhone back into my pocket.
“Yeah, that was pretty obvious,” said Looney Tunes. “You clearly had an agenda with your phone out like that.”
“You have to do it without your phone next time,” said my wife. “And you’re not allowed to be more attracted to her than you are to me.”
I nodded and we moved on. Once we were clear of the last disaster, I approached another window. I found a blonde lady wearing white lingerie, and she was even hotter than the first one. She was crazy hot. Like, I honestly did not understand why she hadn’t chosen a more lucrative career in modeling of some sort, but whatever — I was on a mission. (Also, I was wearing a pretty thick pair of whiskey goggles at the time.)
“Hi,” I said, kind of half-waving at her like a bashful schoolboy. She opened the glass door and raised her eyebrows. “Uh, what… what is the price?” I asked, feeling like the world’s biggest anus.
“Fifty euros for a blowjob, one hundred for sex,” she replied, having clearly answered that question a dozen times that day.
“Oh! Okay!” I said. “Good! I have to go now. Thank you. You are really pretty, by the way. Okay, bye!”
She waved and closed the door, either bored or just plain apathetic. But I was thrilled! I got the information I needed! (The very same information you can find right-goddamn-here, in An Expert’s Guide to Brothel Etiquette, featured on Vice.com.) The only thing I really didn’t know — but is incredibly obvious once you stop and think about it for like 2 seconds — is that you’ll be wearing a condom even if all you’re doing is getting your bone smooched. Sort of destroys the porno fantasy playing in every American idiot’s mind right about now, I know, but it’s really the best thing for all parties involved.
Anyway, if I were single and inclined to pay for a little slap and tickle, I would absolutely go to Amsterdam. Forget the Reeperbahn in Hamburg; pony up for the real thing. And you can check it out for yourself by clicking one of the pictures below to start the slideshow. (Special note: I didn’t take the one’s of the actual girls themselves — those are from Flickr Creative Commons — but I wanted to show my American brethren what this whole world really looks like.)
Thank you for reading and have an awesome day!