10 November 1999

God bless the Dutch! I just spent a very cool extended weekend in Amsterdam and was reminded of how cultured and civilized are those Nether People. I went for a game awards thing held by PC Zone Benelux and they paid for everything... ...even the coffee ;) If you like to partake of the Californian Salads and Mexican Weeds, I highly (pardon the pun) recommend a visit to the Land of Tulips.

I got there at like noon their time, which was like 5am my time, as was completely jet-lagged. Bas and Rembrandt picked my up at the airport, noticed the drawn-out look in my eyes, and immediately suggested a stop at a local coffee shop before the hotel. I, being the consummate diplomate, agreed to the need.

It's one of those things you can't really believe, even while you're doing it... ...walking into a coffee shop in the middle of a city, heading for the back of the cafe, and perusing a menu (yes, an actual menu), listing all the featured "coffees". King Hussam's Nightmare, Moroccan Madness, Afghanistan Tar, Lebanese Blonde ...all described, priced, and detailed (with pictures and arrows on the back, just like at Alice's) for your shopping convenience. 20 Guilders (about $10) later, you're sitting with your friends partaking of some of the world's finest and sipping a sugar-laced fruit drink, ...or, you can actually get coffee.

We were sitting there for a while and I remembered the last time I was in Amsterdam. It was in 1985 and I had rented a car to tool around the Continent. I was driving through the Red Light District and turned into one of the side streets. Many of the streets in Europe are narrow and pedestrians (who obviously haven't walked in Texas) tend to wander into the streets.

I turned into this side street and immediately found myself slowly foloowing this big biker dude. He had "Hell's Angel'" or some shit written on the back of his demin jacket, as I recall. I thought I was following along at a respectable distance, mainly because I seemed to remember the emblem on his jacket, but was soon starting to bum about this dude that wouldn't move back onto the sidewalk and let me pass.

Within a minute or two, the dude wurled around and started shaking his hairy finger at me and yelling something in Dutch. I don't know alot of Dutch, but it sounded painful. He slammed his fist on the hood of the car, gave me one more point and a few more words, then turned and continued on his way... ...still in the street, of course. As he turned, BTW, he pulled the his jacket down from his shoulders far enough for me to see that he had a huge, rusty machette strapped to his back.

I decided to show even more respect and waited right there until he was well ahead of me and my now-dented Renault. Why was I bringing this all up? ...oh yes, I remember, ...I was relating this story to Bas at the coffee shop (we went to the Green Room, which is highly recommended by the Good and Humble Levelord) and right when I mentioned the machette, he jumped up and said "Holly shit! You almost got killed by Luigi Manicotti!".
I've changed the name because the dude was just killed in a car accident and was highly respected in the neighborhood. Evidently, I had had a brush encounter with one of the nastiest Angels in Amsterdam. Just like I told Dr. Sleep 6 years ago... ..."Famous people always seem to know famous people, even before they are famous" ;)
 

16 November 1999

While we're here, I forgot to mention another cool thing I saw in Amsterdam. We've all seen television stations switch over to infomercials and such late at night, but the Dutch go where no exercise machine or Popeil Pocket Fisherman can take you. Full blown, ...pardon the pun, XXX advertising with nothing barred except, apparently, animals and midgets. What floored me was that along with a few local networks, even Fox joined in on the fun. God bless the Dutch ;)

...and finally, some game-related news for my friends like Chet and Marvin. The story is called "A Rose by Any Other Name Would Smell Like... ...Pizza.". Last Thursday night was one of those anticipated nights of romance for Kelly and me. We won't get stickii or anything here, but we both sort of planned on a nice night together with some videos and pizza. Take-out pizza can be so romantic.

I stopped on the way home and bought an extra-cheese-and-extra-sauce and then stopped to get a rose to put on the pizza so that when she opened it, ...well, you know how that works, lads. I got home and headed immediately to do a crossword-on-the-porcelein, as I usually do, leaving the pizza for Kelly to find. We hadn't traded so much as a "Hello!" as I passed here on the way to the thrown, and I eagerly waited there for her to open the box and say "Ah, Sweetie!".

I sat and I sat, but nothing. I thought "Oh shit! I've done something wrong and even a rose won't recoup our plans!". I finished, came out to the kitchen in my best defense posture, and noticed the pizza was gone. Hmmm, why no comment about the rose? Kelly, was real happy to see me, we traded a few peaks and hugs, and I sort of forgot about the pizza.

A good 10 minutes went by before I remembered the pizza was nowhere in sight and she hadn't even commented about the rose. I now started thinking she had already become jaded to flowers, a fate worse than the fleeting You're-Such-an-Asshole-Richard I had suspected before. Then I saw the oven light was on! She had put the pizza in the stove to warm it up, box and all, and there sat the poor rose amidst bubbling mozzarella and extra sauce.

The rose, BTW, nearly a week later, has bursted into this incredible blossom and the whole living room reeks of rose. We may have found a new bloom-maintenance system for flowers.