1 Night in Amsterdam + 1 Cialis = 14 Prostitutes
Walking into the Red Light District felt like Disney World for degenerates. I couldn’t have been more excited. I handed my new found Australian friends; Mike and Joe, a liter of Amstel and a Cialis. We had meet (they were brothers) a couple hours earlier, but a few joints and beers later we were like old pals.
We continued to drink and as I got more polluted I came up with, what I thought, was a great idea. I made up a competition to see who could have sex with the most prostitutes in one night. When I presented them with my idea they looked at me and laughed. I took this as a yes.
Joe was the first to take part in my game. He saw an attractive women in the window. I could tell he was a little nervous about what he was about to do. He looked at me with a little smile and said ” I don’t really know if want to spend the money because I cum prematurely mate”. His brother and I laughed at him until the peer pressure was enough that he agreed to partake in the game.
I cracked a fresh liter of beer as he went into the house. Mike and I stood outside on the street drinking and talking. I hadn’t even finished half of my beer when Joe walked out with his head down. He was in the house for less than 3 minutes total and had already finished. His brother and I couldn’t stop laughing at him.
The majority of the events over the next 10-12 hours are a bit blurry for me. But, there are some part I remember clearly, like my trip to Skinny Alley. Skinny Alley is exactly what It sounds like. It was an alley in the Red Light District with barely enough room for people to walk single file in either direction. Every 12-15 feet there was a doorway with a prostitute standing in it.
As I passed a door I felt a hand grab me and pull me inside a dark room. When the lights went on I saw one of the most beautiful women I have ever encountered standing in front of me. She was Portuguese and perfect; other than being a prostitute of course. She offered me some coke, which I thought was awful nice of her. Then she said “for you we can do this for 25 Euros.” That’s less than taking a date out to dinner at a low end restaurant. I’m not one to pass up a great deal. Free drugs and inexpensive sex with this Portuguese Goddess. I felt like I was taking advantage of her.
After we had our fun, we did a little more coke and had a couple drinks. We made small talk. She asked about my life in the US and said she always want to travel to America. At one point she hinted at the possibility of coming to visit me. I took that as my cue to leave. I gave her my E-mail address and said goodbye.
On my way out, I took a pen from her room and made a mark on my hand. This was how I kept score for the competition. It was like tallying votes on a chalk board as a child.
As it turns out, I was the only one competing. The brothers were long gone. I stumbled around the Red Light District, making mark after mark on my hand. At one point one of the prostitutes tried to dose me with GHB. I’m not sure what she had planned for me; but I’m pretty sure it looked something like the movie Hostel.
As the night progressed I became less and less selective with my purchases. It was a sheer numbers game for me at this point. There was a very angry and rather large black chick who stole $20 from me. She gave me a lackluster handjob, which she didn’t even finish. I had sex with a couple of chicks way past their prime. Overall, the quantity game caused me to have buyers remorse often.
The sun was starting to come up. When I looked at my watch I realized I had to be back at my hotel and ready to leave on the bus in less than two hours. I had no idea where I was in correlation to the hotel. As I flagged down a taxi a guy bumped into me and tried to grab my Rolex off my wrist. Thankfully I still had the capacity to defend myself even in my stupor. I shrugged it off and jumped into the taxi.
Upon arriving at the hotel I went to my room, packed up all my items and headed down to the lobby. I knew if I went to bed I wouldn’t wake up in time to make the bus and would be left behind. The next thing I remember the tour guide was shaking me to wake me up and asking if I was OK. I was covered in sweat, sleeping on my suitcase in front of the whole tour group.
I could feel the very judgmental eyes of my fellow travelers burning into my soul. Joe and Mike were laughing at me and making jokes. I reached into my pocket to find I had spent about 800 Euros that night. Then, I looked down at my hand and counted the 14 marks. I proudly showed the brothers what I had accomplished and claimed victory.
As a side note, I learned that a blue light at a house means they are a dude dressed up as a woman. Be careful. I almost found this out the hard way. No pun intended