Red becomes orange

Is it possible to wake up the next morning and not have a hangover rather to actually still be drunk? I think I need to back up and tell you more of this story, but first I have received a number of queries from people asking what the red light district feels like and looks like. I will try to paint a picture for all of you who have not been, for those who have you can keep me honest.

One first needs to get a feeling for the city of Amsterdam. Imagine a series of concentric rings, each being a waterway that completely surrounds the city. A whole network of bridges cross these waterways in multiple places. One can walk or take one of the ample number of street trams to Dam square close to city center and a perfect place to get a cup of coffee and watch the world go by. The square is bordered on one side by the edifice of a magnificent church, one of the oldest ones in the city and famous for bringing sailors in after months at sea. As one explores you walk a scant 2 blocks away when you find a street with a waterway traversing directly through the middle, bisecting it into two one way streets each no more than 10 feet wide. The waterway itself is a main one easily spanning 40-50 feet. The street is shared by bicyclists (ample in number as mentioned in previous entries), pedestrians, and of course small European cars. The side of the street bordering on the waterway is protected simply by a small chain roughly 3 feet off the ground. This is your typical cobblestone street that runs throughout Amsterdam, here however there is a difference. On both sides of the street there are a number of simple glass doors that would appear to be like any other front door to a house, there is no decoration just a single piece of glass. Running over the door is either the classic lamp with a red bulb hanging out front or a more modern florescent red bulb running over the entire top of the door. Clearly this is where the red light district received its name.

Behind each glass door that are sometimes as street level, other times at either second floor or basement level, there is a female standing or perhaps lounging languidly on a stool. Many choose to have a black light in this small anteroom to help highlight the florescent bikini or other lingerie they might be wearing. As a particularly interesting client walks by they might tap the glass trying to get ones attention, each time one looks up they are rewarded with an award winning smile, maybe a sway of the hips or chest and a distinct invitational moment with a single finger. If one was to accept such an invitation they would approach the door at which time the woman will unlock from the inside and welcome their new friend. In the higher class establishments this anteroom actually leads deeper into the building to a bedroom which are furnished with beds, couches and a sink. Less expensive areas simply have a wood cot with a mattress in the anteroom itself. Woman rent these ante-rooms and accordingly pay based on location and amenities. The price from their guest’s perspective is a set price issued by the state, 50 euros (approximately $65) for those who might be interested. Once a guest is welcomed in the shades are drawn across the door (ironically a deep velvet red) for the approximately 10-15 minutes while business is being conducted. Usually this can be identified as a friend or two waits outside trying to look inconspicuous and not waiting for a friend to emerge with a silly grin on their face. Interspersed throughout these doors are shops selling every imaginably video, magazine, and toy created for adult entertainment, many require pictorial directions for the less educated. There are also a number of sex shops where for a reduced fee (10 euros, 12 dollars) you can watch professionals engaging in sex for your viewing pleasure. This comes in every imaginably form including male with female, male with two females, two females, female with banana (famous banana bar), and full on orgies with 4+ individuals. All woman are tested by the state for STDs every month and need to be licensed to rent the rooms.

While trying to walk casually down this road cars are of course attempting to share the road with pedestrians and bicycles and all the mentioned individuals are looking in the direction of the ladies and the stores. It is a wonder more people do not fall into the waterway, although this might be a wonderful form of population control. Down small alleys along this street that measure no more than 6-8 feet wide doors abound on either side with woman seeking company. The further from the main street the more unique they are, of course Asian, African American, and Hispanic each have their own alley, as does older woman (40+), and larger woman from a weight perspective. The streets are heavily patrolled by police and each door has a small buzzer on the inside for the lady to use if in any case of distress, they are protected by the state not by any pimps or private citizens. There is however numerous individuals lounging along the street willing to sell hard drugs such as cocaine and heroin which are quite illegal that carry very strict penalties. All types of people walk along this street including both genders, tourists and residents alike.

I hope that I have provided an interesting window into this unique environment and hope you can visit it yourself someday. Lets proceed back to the original story.

I have finished my conference and simply looking for a nice quiet place to have some dinner and maybe have a drink or two. Keeping in mind it is 30 degrees I am attempting to limit my time outside in the elements. I proceed to Lypenstyden square, a place ripe with bars and restaurants. I find a simple British pub where I quickly order a pint of their finest and peruse the menu. Picking a selection, I take a look around at the other patrons. The inn is quite full and yet none are eating, when the waitress comes over she tries to dissuade me from the food, apparently they are more well known for their liquid refreshments and atmosphere. I finish my beer and re-brave the elements. Deciding against any type of ethnic variety I find a hole in the wall sports bar that seems appealing enough. Suffice to say I certainly chose the right bar. To maintain proper ratios all the wait staff including the bartender are all females, attractive ones at that, not that I met a lot of unattractive females in Amsterdam. Sitting at the bar I find a great hockey game on (NY against Pittsburgh), now with perfect atmosphere and entertainment, I just need to find some sustenance. Armed with an additional beer I dive into an order of excellent ribs and other fatty foods. The hockey game is phenomenal, NY rises to a 3 goal lead only to be tied by Phil with 5 minutes to go). All excited now, and you guessed it the station is changed to some weird sport where people run around kicking a ball around the field, I think they call it football you might know it better by soccer. I quickly request and beg the bartender (who has no control of the stations) then the manager. This fine young chap tells me he has 150 extreme soccer fans upstairs with only 1 hockey fan down here. Still trying to grasp his point I am quickly placated by the bartender with an additional pint and shot of jaggermeister. This proceeds into conversation with the wonderful hip and fun bartender who continues to provide me a shot for every beer I order. By 1am I have now had 7 or 8 beers and just one shy in shots (I think). Singing along with Will Smith and 50 cent on the radio the wait staff and I proceeded to outlast the remaining customers closing the bar and drinking well into the morning, singing and dancing in our own private club. As each employee finished their shift they would quickly roll a joint and begin to smile deeper and deeper. I was fairly socked to find out the youngest waitress was only at a tender age of 18 while the oldest was not more than 26, they might be young but their certainly know how to party.

Afterwards when we were all pretty sloshed, everyone left and with the exception of me proceeded to get on bikes to return to their respective homes. I hailed a cab and although more than slightly inebriated proceeded to haggle over an outrageously expensive cab far down by a good 10 euros (half price). I landed at home by 3am only to wake up at 6 to proceed to the airport. Thus we approach the beginning of my story where I believe I am still drunk as compared to being hung over. At least I was during breakfast.

Quick but certainly entertaining trip, but as always will be great to be home. Oh and in case you are curious on how I have so much knowledge of everything mentioned above, the government actually publishes pamphlets to inform tourists.