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6/27

Wednesday, July 18th, 2007

I wake up in the morning very hungover and ennervated. The shower is difficult, brushing my hair is difficult, everything is difficult. Painfully I gather up my things in the backpack and head to the train station. Aboard the train, we learn that there has been an accident, a train has run into an automobile and there will be a delay. The train officials on the intercom are most apologetic about it, they seem to be very embarrassed. A Dutch fellow comes into my cabin on the train, he is extremely nice and we have a nice long talk. I find myself admiring his style, he is soft-spoken but with an alert, competent spark in his eyes. A most agreeable sort, there should be more men like this in the world. Because of the delay we miss our transfer at Osnabruck (he is heading for Hamburg as well), so we head to the snack stand together to wait for the next train and he buys me a soda. The next train comes soon enough, and in a few hours we are in Hamburg. I find my hotel with little difficulty, and spend the evening washing my clothes in the sink, yet again and hopefully for the last time. I am too tired and hungover after that for any more activity, and crash for the evening. No drinking tonight.

6/26

Wednesday, July 18th, 2007

I get up late, there is somehow a new cast of characters in the room now, including a guy from Kentucky who has been living most recently in Austria. We talk for a while, then I go take a shower. The shower is fairly horrendous, dirty, no ventilation, with standing water on the floor with no place to drain. As is fairly typical with hostels, it is a push-button shower, meaning that every fifteen seconds or so you have to push the freaking button for more water. Afterwards, I go out on a walking tour of the city. There are lots of canals, and the general vibe is laid back, laissez-faire. It is still grey and overcast, and a bit cold. I stop at a good-looking little hole-in-the-wall pub and have a beer. A Danish fellow stops in with his woman. He has a buzz cut and facial protrusions (various clips, pegs, metal things). He is a musician and is playing somewhere in Amsterdam on Thursday. We have similar outlooks on music, I find. Death to Corporate Rock. The bartender is a character, looks a bit drunk or addled in some way, he tells me about a pool hall around the corner which I go and check out. Ten euros per hour, and I play like absolute shit. After that I buy a tall Heineken in a supermarket, take it out on the street, sipping as I go (I had thought this was legal here, although I find out later that this is not the case and you can get fined for it). I stumble upon a park, and sit down in the grass to watch the ducks, feeling generally lost and alone. The ducks play with each other, stop and start, dive underwater, cavorting. Then off to a bar around the corner, fairly dark with a nice long wooden bar top but the drinks are back up to almost five euros a beer. The waitress is cute and she has nothing else to do so she talks to me for a while. Then her shift is over and she is replaced by an even cuter girl named Saskia. The crowd begins to grow, as World Cup is on. I am drinking beers at a rapid pace. A guy from Detroit name Tony walks in, sits next to me, starts making a lot of noise. He has a thing for the bartender, keeps saying her name over and over, “Saskia, Saskia…” He confides in me that he wants to get a whore tonight and get a blowjob. He talks me into going out to a coffee shop to get a joint. I wasn’t going to smoke that night, wot with the recovering pneumonia and all, but what the hell, it’s Amsterdam. Then after the smoke, Tony and I go back to the bar. He gets wrapped up in an animated conversation with some other Americans, and as I am pretty drunk I duck out, intending to head back to the hostel. But I find myself walking past the red-lit windows and I know what’s going to happen. I walk past one particularly alluring blonde and like a magnet I am drawn in. She leads me into the room and shuts the door. “Listen, I don’t really want sex, I just want to lick your feet.” She smiles, is fine with it. An easy trick, yeah. So she lays down and I lay down and do my thing, she seems to enjoy it but you never can tell really. Her feet are as smooth as silk, and I never want to leave. I ask her for more time, pull out a wad of cash and give it to her. I am high on her and the pot and all the beer, I lay wallowing in my ecstasy. After a while she gets a call on her cell phone, “You have three more minutes…” she tells me. I finish up, get up and leave, and discover that I am really drunk, wobbly and light-headed. I head off in what I hope is the right direction, which of course turns out to be the exact opposite direction of what I wanted. After a long wander I eventually find the hostel again, go upstairs and collapse.

6/25

Wednesday, July 18th, 2007
Get up in the morning, it has rained during the night. Drank a bit too much last night, am feeling hungover and weak. Walk up to the north station, catch the train to Amsterdam. They are out of sandwiches on ... [Continue reading this entry]