Ten Minute Fridays
The DVD player does not have a remote control. Benjo couldn't switch the language on The Big Lebowski so we had to watch dubbed in French. They call The Dude... The Duke.
What the fuck, Duke?
Two nights ago, we got hammered. Really really shitfaced hammered. I had not drank that much since I left Las Vegas. There were no beer sales at the Ajax football game. Since it was a Champions League match, they only sold weak beer or non-alcoholic beer. After the match, we took the train back to Central Station and got shitfaced at a bar next to the 420 Cafe. They served Absinthe (not the real stuff made out of wormwood) but it got you fucked up for sure. We did two shots in addition to drinking pints. I called AlCantHang for a Dutch Dial-a-Shot.
I don't recall too much after 3am and before I woke up on Thursday. I was mildly hungover when I finally rolled out of bed. I didn't write much and only read a couple of chapters of Kerouac before we stumbled out of the apartment around 5pm for breakfast.
We pretty much wander around alternating between coffeeshops and bars. Sometimes we stop off at the apartment for a little bit and the roommates play online poker.
Late nights, Benjo and I have been taking walks throughout the city. We ended up in the Red Light District last night and I found a narrow alley with plenty of hookers. The alley was packed with tourists who gawked at the dozen or so windows which ended up having the best looking crop of hookers that I had ever seen.
I embarrassed Benjo. One hooker who looked like Norah Jones winked at him. She stood underneath the bright red lights and wore a skimpy black bathing suit and slutty high heels. She opened up the glass door and waved us over. I pointed at her, then I pointed at Benjo and myself indicating that I wanted her to do both of us. She got angry and slammed the door.
"What ze fuck did you do zat for?" he said in his accent.
"Just fucking around," I answered.
It was very late and we went to a few coffeeshops and bars we had never been to before mainly since they were the only ones open after 1am. The places that we frequent by our apartment close early.
I went to bed earlier than the last few nights (earlier meaning before sunrise). I woke up early and read for an hour on the roof. That was followed up by a quick post on Tao of Poker about my poker blog turning 4 today.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Thursday Amsterdam Picture Dump
Here are some pics that I took over the last week. These are NSFW and contain images of at least one hooker, illegal gambling, and a chick about to bang a horse:
A view of Hotel Ibis from my room at The Victoria
The view of the canal from our living room
Self-Portrait: Crooked Reflection
The window in the strairwell leading to the attic
Animal porn!
On the job... a local window hooker
(I snapped this super quick from inside a
coffeeshop around the corner from where we live)
Action junkies!
No hats and no heroin
Here are some pics that I took over the last week. These are NSFW and contain images of at least one hooker, illegal gambling, and a chick about to bang a horse:
A view of Hotel Ibis from my room at The Victoria
The view of the canal from our living room
Self-Portrait: Crooked Reflection
The window in the strairwell leading to the attic
Animal porn!
On the job... a local window hooker
(I snapped this super quick from inside a
coffeeshop around the corner from where we live)
Action junkies!
No hats and no heroin
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
1650
"This house was built in 1650. You can see the floors. It is the original," the owner of the building told us.
His name was also Paul and we bonded as he showed us the five story flat in the Jordaan neighborhood which included a basement with a washer and dryer and an attic, where I told him that we would hide little Jewish girls from the Nazis. He smirked when I said that. He mentioned that he didn't like the Germans and that his parents and grandparents had to eat tulip bulbs during the Nazi occupation of Amsterdam during WWII.
Three of us shared the apartment including my friend Benjo, a journalist from Lille was a well-known poker journalist in France, and his good friend RK, who happened to be an poker pro from Australia. For under 60 Euros a day (each), the magnificent place was ours. It intersected two canals and around the corner were the window girls. Bars and coffeeshops and cafes were all within a ten minute walk.
If you have not seen a video of the apartment, click here to take a quick tour.
Taken right in front of the apartment
Benjo took the downstairs bedroom. RK liked the one on the 4th floor and I took the top floor. It had the most space, a TV, and access to the attic and roof. Except it was a bitch to get all of my luggage up five flights of stairs which was more like a ladder. I had to make two trips. The stairs are tricky. There's not much foot space on each step and you almost have to climb sideways while holding onto the hand rail. I banged my head a couple of times. By the third day, it was a lot easier.
The owner went through the entire apartment with us and told us about the closest market. He even circled the red light district on the map just in case we were looking for entertainment.
I knew the surrounding Jordaan area somewhat well. Our place was about the same distance from two of my favorite coffeeshops. We would wander around and hang out at some places I knew about and a couple of new places I walked past but never went into. One of those places was called Amnesia. It's decked out in all red with comfortable chairs. Their specialty is shakes, particularly the chocolate shake. We've stopped there three days in a row for a shake.
Amnesia's shake
We also went over to Rookies and Grey Area. I stopped off at Barney's to pick up Willie Nelson. We drank a lot at random bars.
I've been sleeping an amazing amount. The first three nights in Amsterdam, I slept at least six straight hours and racked up over 22 hours total. I haven't slept like that in over a decade! The combination of Unisom (first two nights), hashish, tired legs from lots of walking, and a giant bed has allowed me to catch up on all the sleep I lost over the summer. Last night I only got five and a half hours. Normally, that's a lot for me. Here, it's not a good night. If I can keep up that pace... I'll catch up on all the sleep I lost for the entire year.
I can recall a couple of individual days this year where I slept a lot. Once was in LA the day after I got home from Australia. Another time I crashed for almost ten straight hours in NYC shortly before I went to Florida. And after a week long assignment in Monte Carlo (where I was working like 21 hours a day), I crashed hard for one night... so much so that I extended my trip for an extra day just to compensate for the day I lost from sleeping so much.
Normally, I'd get bummed out if I didn't write and read as much as I would like... but in this instance, I have a rare opportunity to catch up on sleep... which has not presented itself in several years. And old hippie I once met on the road told me that you can do a ton of drugs and party your ass off as long as you drink lots of water and get enough sleep. That's the secret to surviving the road. Then again, if I slept less, I would get less done.
Anyway, I dig Dutch TV. They have weird game shows and dub the most random shows like Smallville and King of Queens. The first night I watched The Office (US version) and The Simpsons as I fell asleep. Both had Dutch subtitles.
My roommate RK has been playing in a series of online poker tournaments that start at 3am Amsterdam time. RK crashes around 11pm or Midnight and sleeps for a few hours before he wakes up to play poker then goes back to sleep when it's done. That's when Benjo and I have been going out for a late night walk.
We had been around our surrounding blocks a couple of times to recognize the different shifts of day and night hookers. In our part of town, they are sketchy looking. Tired. Worn out. Most of them are old and skanky. During the daylight hours, they sit with their doors wide open. Most of the ladies are on their cellphones or reading the news paper. One hooker was on a laptop and checking her email. The atmosphere is more laid back and the clientele is mostly locals with the occasional tourist.
One night we ended up at Rokerij and last night we wandered around the neighborhood in the rain. I woke up early this morning and read on the roof since it was no longer raining. I'm re-reading Dharma Bums) and was listening to my iPod.
When RK woke up we headed out to a Euro sports pub for lunch and beers. We saw the schedule of games that they were going to be aired. One of them was the local team... Ajax. We found some available tickets for tonight's game. The local record store a few blocks away sold them to us. They had seats in a decent section near midfield for 50 Euros. It was a bit steep but I had never been to a proper European football match, so we went ahead about bought tickets. The game is tonight and I hope to take some pics.
"This house was built in 1650. You can see the floors. It is the original," the owner of the building told us.
His name was also Paul and we bonded as he showed us the five story flat in the Jordaan neighborhood which included a basement with a washer and dryer and an attic, where I told him that we would hide little Jewish girls from the Nazis. He smirked when I said that. He mentioned that he didn't like the Germans and that his parents and grandparents had to eat tulip bulbs during the Nazi occupation of Amsterdam during WWII.
Three of us shared the apartment including my friend Benjo, a journalist from Lille was a well-known poker journalist in France, and his good friend RK, who happened to be an poker pro from Australia. For under 60 Euros a day (each), the magnificent place was ours. It intersected two canals and around the corner were the window girls. Bars and coffeeshops and cafes were all within a ten minute walk.
If you have not seen a video of the apartment, click here to take a quick tour.
Taken right in front of the apartment
Benjo took the downstairs bedroom. RK liked the one on the 4th floor and I took the top floor. It had the most space, a TV, and access to the attic and roof. Except it was a bitch to get all of my luggage up five flights of stairs which was more like a ladder. I had to make two trips. The stairs are tricky. There's not much foot space on each step and you almost have to climb sideways while holding onto the hand rail. I banged my head a couple of times. By the third day, it was a lot easier.
The owner went through the entire apartment with us and told us about the closest market. He even circled the red light district on the map just in case we were looking for entertainment.
I knew the surrounding Jordaan area somewhat well. Our place was about the same distance from two of my favorite coffeeshops. We would wander around and hang out at some places I knew about and a couple of new places I walked past but never went into. One of those places was called Amnesia. It's decked out in all red with comfortable chairs. Their specialty is shakes, particularly the chocolate shake. We've stopped there three days in a row for a shake.
Amnesia's shake
We also went over to Rookies and Grey Area. I stopped off at Barney's to pick up Willie Nelson. We drank a lot at random bars.
I've been sleeping an amazing amount. The first three nights in Amsterdam, I slept at least six straight hours and racked up over 22 hours total. I haven't slept like that in over a decade! The combination of Unisom (first two nights), hashish, tired legs from lots of walking, and a giant bed has allowed me to catch up on all the sleep I lost over the summer. Last night I only got five and a half hours. Normally, that's a lot for me. Here, it's not a good night. If I can keep up that pace... I'll catch up on all the sleep I lost for the entire year.
I can recall a couple of individual days this year where I slept a lot. Once was in LA the day after I got home from Australia. Another time I crashed for almost ten straight hours in NYC shortly before I went to Florida. And after a week long assignment in Monte Carlo (where I was working like 21 hours a day), I crashed hard for one night... so much so that I extended my trip for an extra day just to compensate for the day I lost from sleeping so much.
Normally, I'd get bummed out if I didn't write and read as much as I would like... but in this instance, I have a rare opportunity to catch up on sleep... which has not presented itself in several years. And old hippie I once met on the road told me that you can do a ton of drugs and party your ass off as long as you drink lots of water and get enough sleep. That's the secret to surviving the road. Then again, if I slept less, I would get less done.
Anyway, I dig Dutch TV. They have weird game shows and dub the most random shows like Smallville and King of Queens. The first night I watched The Office (US version) and The Simpsons as I fell asleep. Both had Dutch subtitles.
My roommate RK has been playing in a series of online poker tournaments that start at 3am Amsterdam time. RK crashes around 11pm or Midnight and sleeps for a few hours before he wakes up to play poker then goes back to sleep when it's done. That's when Benjo and I have been going out for a late night walk.
We had been around our surrounding blocks a couple of times to recognize the different shifts of day and night hookers. In our part of town, they are sketchy looking. Tired. Worn out. Most of them are old and skanky. During the daylight hours, they sit with their doors wide open. Most of the ladies are on their cellphones or reading the news paper. One hooker was on a laptop and checking her email. The atmosphere is more laid back and the clientele is mostly locals with the occasional tourist.
One night we ended up at Rokerij and last night we wandered around the neighborhood in the rain. I woke up early this morning and read on the roof since it was no longer raining. I'm re-reading Dharma Bums) and was listening to my iPod.
When RK woke up we headed out to a Euro sports pub for lunch and beers. We saw the schedule of games that they were going to be aired. One of them was the local team... Ajax. We found some available tickets for tonight's game. The local record store a few blocks away sold them to us. They had seats in a decent section near midfield for 50 Euros. It was a bit steep but I had never been to a proper European football match, so we went ahead about bought tickets. The game is tonight and I hope to take some pics.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
The Amsterdam Apartment
We finally moved into the apartment yesterday in the Jordaan neighborhood. It's actually located in an entire five story building right off a canal. We have it for two weeks. Check out a short video tour that I whipped up on You Tube.
Click here to view the Amsterdam video via RSS or Bloglines
Stay tuned for pics and stories.
We finally moved into the apartment yesterday in the Jordaan neighborhood. It's actually located in an entire five story building right off a canal. We have it for two weeks. Check out a short video tour that I whipped up on You Tube.
Click here to view the Amsterdam video via RSS or Bloglines
Stay tuned for pics and stories.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Dirty Sunday
Amsterdam... The morning light fought its way through the clouds. Patches of blue sky were scattered among a canvas of a grey and white sky. 8am on a Sunday in Amsterdam. The dirty streets were quiet as church bells ominously rang in the distance. A handful of elderly tourists wandered around looking for breakfast. They didn't have much of a choice. Only a few places were open. Aside from travelers walking towards the train station on their way out of Amsterdam, the streets were relatively empty. In a few hours, they'd be swarmed with tourists.
The scummy streets reminded me of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Trash of all sorts cluttered the sidewalks and streets. Every few minutes, I'd step on broken glass, which would make a scratching then popping sound as I crushed different pieces into the cobblestones. Someone puked on the front window of a sneaker store. The dried vomit was being pecked at by pigeons. Most of the stores on the Nieuwendyk were closed, but you could see cats scurrying around inside. That's the old school form of pest control.
The streets were filthy. Did I mention that? Cleaning crews emerged and started cleaning up the mess leftover on a wild Saturday night in Amsterdam. A slippery and soapy film covered some of the cobblestones as guys in orange waterprooofed work suits hosed down the streets with pressure washers. I had never been up that early before in Amsterdam, and it was interesting to see the "morning after" effects of the city.
I rented a hotel room for one day before I was supposed to move into an apartment on Monday afternoon. Since the room was not ready until noon, I dropped off my bags and walked around. It was 8am but by my standards, it was only 2am NYC time. I was wide awake. My flight left JFK on Saturday around 6pm and we got into Amsterdam a half hour early.
The toughest chore was finding places that were open at that odd hour. The bakery I usually bought croissants was closed. I wandered over to a coffeeshop called Pablo Picasso. It opened up at 8am everyday and the clientele at that hour included an mix of travelers getting their last session in before they leave Amsterdam, or junkies who had been up all night partying. I ordered tea and some nugs, and hung out there until the bakery opened. When it did, I bought a chocolate croissant, a plain croissant, and some sort of kaas stick concoction. It was basically long twisty bread baked with cheese.
I walked over to the Jordaan neighborhood where I rented a place. I found the street and eventually the building. My apartment is spread out over at least four or five stories and located on a smaller canal perpendicular to a larger canal (the Signel) on quiet street with pedestrian foot traffic spilling over. The Anne Frank House is about four blocks away, which is a popular (non-drug and non-sex) attraction. I wandered around in concentric circles, walking up and down the side streets trying to familiarize myself with my new digs. Across the canal and down one block is a pub. If you go the other way over another canal, there's a French cafe. And if you walk two blocks (either north or east), you will find yourself by the window girls.
Yeah, there are hookers just two blocks away from my apartment.
I stumbled upon them by total accident. I made a sharp turn down one alley and heard a knocking sound. That's what the window girls do to get your attention. I turned to my right and saw a big black woman in a fluorescent green bikini winking at me. I turned to my left and saw more windows with red velvet drapes. I discovered a lesser known red light district, which was not as popular as the one near Chinatown just off of Dam Square. The women who worked at 9am on a Sunday were not the cream of the crop. Old. Disgusting. Trannies. That is the place were hookers go to die. At the end of the block, there was a window (with the drapes closed) that had two guys waiting in line. I assume that she was the only decent looking one on the block since I passed six or seven of available widows.
Hookers always add flavor to any neighborhood. Mix them with Dutch yuppies and hipsters and hijinks ensue. Should be a fun two weeks.
After I surveyed my neighborhood, I popped into the Pink Floyd, which is an old favorite coffeeshop of mine. During previous trips, I stop by there once a day. I read a book that I brought with me and waited until noon. I headed back to the hotel to check in.
I picked up my luggage and went up to my room overlooking Central Station. It's small by American standards, but large by European standards. I bought Unisom at JFK airport. I intended to pop them on my flight to Amsterdam, but then decided not to. I wasn't tired and KLM has a great setup similar to JetBlue. They offer free inflight entertainment. There's a section of TV shows which are broken into current and classic. I watched one episode of the Simpsons. There's also a movie section that includes the latest releases, new releases, and a classics section.
I watched Blood Diamond with Leo DiCaprio and it was pretty good. I thought it was going to suck. I watched a weird flick with Adam Brody (aka Seth Cohen from The OC). It was called In the Land of Women. He's plays an LA writer who gets dumped by his actress girlfriend. He goes to Michigan to take care of his ailing grandmother. He befriends the neighbor, played by Meg Ryan and a weird love triangle occurs between those two and Ryan's teenaged daughter. It was a lame movie.
I also watched about forty-five minutes of Dreamgirls. It was shown with Arabic subtitles. The guy who wrote the screenplay went to my high school, so I figured I should give it a shot. I knew most of the songs already since Nicky and Showcase sing them all the time! That Jennifer Hudson chick can sing. She blew away Beyonce. Eddie Murphy was good in the scenes that I saw.
Anyway, by the time I got to my room it was a little past Noon. I popped a Unisom and crashed out. I slept for five straight hours (that's rare) and went back to sleep for an hour before I got up around 6:30ish. It had rained while I slept and I had weird dreams, which I wrote about as soon as I woke up.
I showered, then walked over to the Grey Area and bought one of my favorite strains. I sat at a table by the window and ripped bingers while European parents walked past the coffeeshop holding their childrens' hands.
After Grey Area, I wandered over to Dam Square. I sat down at one of those crowded bars/cafes and ordered a huge mug of Bavaria beer. I nursed that for a half hour and people watched. I ordered another beer and then ate some fries with mayonnaise at a stand on the Damrak.
Next up was the 420 cafe. They were one of the few coffeeshops that used to serve beer. Glasses of Amstel were 1.60 Euros. New Dutch law said no more booze in places where they sell weed, so the 420 had to put a halt on liquor sales. Too bad. The place had a homey feeling with a really nice wood bar and old school beer taps.
By then it was 11pm. I finished my book and was starving. Since I woke up, I only ate fries. There were not too many places open. I wandered around and found myself standing at the entrance to Burger King. I loathe fast food and aside from Subway and In & Out Burger, I only eat it as a last alternative. I was debating for a few minutes when a gorup of four smoking girls nearly knocked me over and stumbled into BK. I decided that was the Fast Food Gods giving me a sign. I followed them inside. One girl wore a pink scarf and very tight jeans. They were from Spain (I overheard them speaking Spanish) and two of them were extremely high.
I was going to get a chicken sandwich when the hottest girl in the group in front of me ordered a triple Whopper. What? A fucking triple? I felt embarrassed about my impending healthy purchase. I didn't want her to think I was soft. So when it was my turn, I also ordered a triple Whopper. Just the sandwich. No meal deal.
It took like ten minutes before I got my order, which meant I stood off to the side with the high Spanish girls while we waited. And waited. I forgot what I ordered until I looked down at the receipt. Triple Whopper with Cheese.
I couldn't finish it. I ate about 2/3 which told me I should have gotten a double instead. Wen I walked out, I spotted the table of high Spanish girls. The hot one with the pink scarf crushed her triple Whopper. Daddy and Derek would have been proud.
Amsterdam... The morning light fought its way through the clouds. Patches of blue sky were scattered among a canvas of a grey and white sky. 8am on a Sunday in Amsterdam. The dirty streets were quiet as church bells ominously rang in the distance. A handful of elderly tourists wandered around looking for breakfast. They didn't have much of a choice. Only a few places were open. Aside from travelers walking towards the train station on their way out of Amsterdam, the streets were relatively empty. In a few hours, they'd be swarmed with tourists.
The scummy streets reminded me of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Trash of all sorts cluttered the sidewalks and streets. Every few minutes, I'd step on broken glass, which would make a scratching then popping sound as I crushed different pieces into the cobblestones. Someone puked on the front window of a sneaker store. The dried vomit was being pecked at by pigeons. Most of the stores on the Nieuwendyk were closed, but you could see cats scurrying around inside. That's the old school form of pest control.
The streets were filthy. Did I mention that? Cleaning crews emerged and started cleaning up the mess leftover on a wild Saturday night in Amsterdam. A slippery and soapy film covered some of the cobblestones as guys in orange waterprooofed work suits hosed down the streets with pressure washers. I had never been up that early before in Amsterdam, and it was interesting to see the "morning after" effects of the city.
I rented a hotel room for one day before I was supposed to move into an apartment on Monday afternoon. Since the room was not ready until noon, I dropped off my bags and walked around. It was 8am but by my standards, it was only 2am NYC time. I was wide awake. My flight left JFK on Saturday around 6pm and we got into Amsterdam a half hour early.
The toughest chore was finding places that were open at that odd hour. The bakery I usually bought croissants was closed. I wandered over to a coffeeshop called Pablo Picasso. It opened up at 8am everyday and the clientele at that hour included an mix of travelers getting their last session in before they leave Amsterdam, or junkies who had been up all night partying. I ordered tea and some nugs, and hung out there until the bakery opened. When it did, I bought a chocolate croissant, a plain croissant, and some sort of kaas stick concoction. It was basically long twisty bread baked with cheese.
I walked over to the Jordaan neighborhood where I rented a place. I found the street and eventually the building. My apartment is spread out over at least four or five stories and located on a smaller canal perpendicular to a larger canal (the Signel) on quiet street with pedestrian foot traffic spilling over. The Anne Frank House is about four blocks away, which is a popular (non-drug and non-sex) attraction. I wandered around in concentric circles, walking up and down the side streets trying to familiarize myself with my new digs. Across the canal and down one block is a pub. If you go the other way over another canal, there's a French cafe. And if you walk two blocks (either north or east), you will find yourself by the window girls.
Yeah, there are hookers just two blocks away from my apartment.
I stumbled upon them by total accident. I made a sharp turn down one alley and heard a knocking sound. That's what the window girls do to get your attention. I turned to my right and saw a big black woman in a fluorescent green bikini winking at me. I turned to my left and saw more windows with red velvet drapes. I discovered a lesser known red light district, which was not as popular as the one near Chinatown just off of Dam Square. The women who worked at 9am on a Sunday were not the cream of the crop. Old. Disgusting. Trannies. That is the place were hookers go to die. At the end of the block, there was a window (with the drapes closed) that had two guys waiting in line. I assume that she was the only decent looking one on the block since I passed six or seven of available widows.
Hookers always add flavor to any neighborhood. Mix them with Dutch yuppies and hipsters and hijinks ensue. Should be a fun two weeks.
After I surveyed my neighborhood, I popped into the Pink Floyd, which is an old favorite coffeeshop of mine. During previous trips, I stop by there once a day. I read a book that I brought with me and waited until noon. I headed back to the hotel to check in.
I picked up my luggage and went up to my room overlooking Central Station. It's small by American standards, but large by European standards. I bought Unisom at JFK airport. I intended to pop them on my flight to Amsterdam, but then decided not to. I wasn't tired and KLM has a great setup similar to JetBlue. They offer free inflight entertainment. There's a section of TV shows which are broken into current and classic. I watched one episode of the Simpsons. There's also a movie section that includes the latest releases, new releases, and a classics section.
I watched Blood Diamond with Leo DiCaprio and it was pretty good. I thought it was going to suck. I watched a weird flick with Adam Brody (aka Seth Cohen from The OC). It was called In the Land of Women. He's plays an LA writer who gets dumped by his actress girlfriend. He goes to Michigan to take care of his ailing grandmother. He befriends the neighbor, played by Meg Ryan and a weird love triangle occurs between those two and Ryan's teenaged daughter. It was a lame movie.
I also watched about forty-five minutes of Dreamgirls. It was shown with Arabic subtitles. The guy who wrote the screenplay went to my high school, so I figured I should give it a shot. I knew most of the songs already since Nicky and Showcase sing them all the time! That Jennifer Hudson chick can sing. She blew away Beyonce. Eddie Murphy was good in the scenes that I saw.
Anyway, by the time I got to my room it was a little past Noon. I popped a Unisom and crashed out. I slept for five straight hours (that's rare) and went back to sleep for an hour before I got up around 6:30ish. It had rained while I slept and I had weird dreams, which I wrote about as soon as I woke up.
I showered, then walked over to the Grey Area and bought one of my favorite strains. I sat at a table by the window and ripped bingers while European parents walked past the coffeeshop holding their childrens' hands.
After Grey Area, I wandered over to Dam Square. I sat down at one of those crowded bars/cafes and ordered a huge mug of Bavaria beer. I nursed that for a half hour and people watched. I ordered another beer and then ate some fries with mayonnaise at a stand on the Damrak.
Next up was the 420 cafe. They were one of the few coffeeshops that used to serve beer. Glasses of Amstel were 1.60 Euros. New Dutch law said no more booze in places where they sell weed, so the 420 had to put a halt on liquor sales. Too bad. The place had a homey feeling with a really nice wood bar and old school beer taps.
By then it was 11pm. I finished my book and was starving. Since I woke up, I only ate fries. There were not too many places open. I wandered around and found myself standing at the entrance to Burger King. I loathe fast food and aside from Subway and In & Out Burger, I only eat it as a last alternative. I was debating for a few minutes when a gorup of four smoking girls nearly knocked me over and stumbled into BK. I decided that was the Fast Food Gods giving me a sign. I followed them inside. One girl wore a pink scarf and very tight jeans. They were from Spain (I overheard them speaking Spanish) and two of them were extremely high.
I was going to get a chicken sandwich when the hottest girl in the group in front of me ordered a triple Whopper. What? A fucking triple? I felt embarrassed about my impending healthy purchase. I didn't want her to think I was soft. So when it was my turn, I also ordered a triple Whopper. Just the sandwich. No meal deal.
It took like ten minutes before I got my order, which meant I stood off to the side with the high Spanish girls while we waited. And waited. I forgot what I ordered until I looked down at the receipt. Triple Whopper with Cheese.
I couldn't finish it. I ate about 2/3 which told me I should have gotten a double instead. Wen I walked out, I spotted the table of high Spanish girls. The hot one with the pink scarf crushed her triple Whopper. Daddy and Derek would have been proud.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Invisible Swedes
New York can be a humbling city. It is also the perfect place to practice the toleration of assholes since there are so many of them. The sheer numbers of people you walk by on the street, stand next to on the subway, and work in the same building with total up to a high volume of daily human interaction that most Americans do not experience in other vehicular cities, small towns, and sprawling suburbs. Millions of idiots, nimrods, and assclowns. Everywhere.
Sometimes, I inadvertently evoke my powers of invisibility, which happens frequently in New York City. In front of Grand Central Station, a suit on his Blackberry crashed into me when he was too busy checking his email than to pay attention to when he walked. Of course, he quickly faulted me and barked, "Watch where you are going, buddy!"
Buddy? I didn't say anything to him and continued on my way as I muttered, "Blackberry douchebag. How many girls did you date rape this week, you cash poor hipster?!?"
The other morning at the bagel store, an old Jewish lady cut me in line. I was on deck and she ran up to the counter just as the person behind the counter yelled, "Next!"
I called her out right away. I pointed to everyone behind me and said, "I was next in line. You cut me and all these other people."
A fat guy wearing a wife beater, a Mets hat, and holding a rolled up newspaper chimed in, "Get to the end of the line!"
The person behind the counter would not take the order of the lady and she asked me what I wanted instead. The old lady gave me the evil eye like I was the bad guy. I wanted to say, "Fuck you cunt, and get your wrinkly ass to the back of the line!"
If she asked to cut, I would have said yes. She acted as though she was entitled to waltz up to the counter and get her toasted onion bagel with extra lox.
The other day, I encountered a run in with an unruly New Yorker on the uptown #1 subway train. I was seated and read Low Life by Luc Sante, a thick book about 400 pages in length. I held it up face high so I could read without straining my neck. An ethnic lady decided to stand right in front of me and grabbed the pole above my head. As the subway sped out of the station she fell into me and banged into my book. That's when she flipped out and accused me of hitting her on purpose.
"What?" I said. "I'm just sitting here."
She said a few other things but would not budge. There was plenty of other places she could have stood. At the other end of the train there were seats. For some reason she wanted to bust my balls and stood over me and trying to fall again into my book so she could start more shit. Some people are looking for trouble, As soon as the train arrived in the next station, the guy sitting next to me got up. I slid into his seat and said, "You smell bad so I'm going to find a new seat."
I jumped up and went to the opposite end of the subway car. She was stunned and didn't know what to say. And no, she really didn't smell bad, but I said it loud enough that around a dozen people heard it.
* * * * *
Errands. I have been running around doing a bunch of errands over the last few days. I made two trips to the post office. I paid several bills including writing two check worth over $4K each to the IRS. My second quarterly tax payment was due on July 17th and I missed it by a few weeks. I also decided to pre-pay the third quarterly payment due in September (for some odd reason). I also had to cut checks for my school loan and a $50 bill to the doctor when I went shortly before I left NYC. Money comes in and it quickly goes out.
I sat around for most of the afternoon on Wednesday waiting for a Fed-Ex package... my international cell phone. It finally arrived and I will be forwarding all my calls from the US and be able to answer my phone in Europe. I have a London number and get free incoming calls when I'm in England, so wait until I get there in early September to call me. Otherwise, email is the best option.
On Thursday afternoon, I wandered around Barnes and Nobles in the Flat Iron District. I read through a few Eastern Philosophy books and stopped to read five pages of Confessions of an Economic Hitman. I eventually bought a book to read during my flight to Europe. As soon as I get there, I'll give it away and hope to find another book. The last time I was in Amsterdam, some guy from Spain gave me a copy of The Iliad.
I purchased a new travel power adapter plug which is supposed to work in 150 countries. It comes in a cool traveling case. I never thought I'd be thumbing through magazines hawking travel products, but now I find myself both fascinated and interested at the products I see. These days, I'm not much for material items, but if there are things that can make my life easier on the road... then I'm interested. I find myself spending more and more time in the Brookstone stores in various airports and reading business traveler's websites and forums for tips on both business and international travel. I've racked up a ton of miles over the last three years, but I still have plenty to learn.
I went to the bank twice. I paid some bills via the ATM machine and did some other transactions. I also purchased a shitload of Euros, which I had to order and wait three days to pick up in Midtown. I asked for $100 bills and they gave me $50 bills. A lot of them. Over fifty. I wasn't happy. I only have one superstition and that is... I don't carry $50 bills. It's an old time gambler's superstition that I picked up in Las Vegas courtesy of Grubby. I try to convince myself that the superstition only applies to US currency and not Euros, Pounds, or Aussie bucks.
I purchased a direct roundtrip flight to Australia on Quantas for $1,500 (via LAX). In January, I flew on United. The leg from LAX to Sydney was infamous for being one of the worst international flights. Lucky for me, I was able to upgrade to business class on my way home. Anyway, I found a good deal and jumped. I can change my departure date once without a penalty and I can add any other flights within Australia for $150 each way. After my work assignment, I am considering side trips to either Uluru (aka Ayers Rock) and/or to New Zealand before I return to Melbourne for the infamous Melbourne Cup horse race.
I still have a few major things to do before I leave... like load up my iPod, do laundry, and pack. But for the most part, I'm almost ready to hit the road once again.
The last two days were productive. I caught up on writing assignments. I handed in my column for Poker Player Newspaper. I also worked on six different websites (Tao of Poker, Tao of Pauly, Truckin, My Music & Phish Blog, LasVegasVegas, and my Flickr gallery) over the last 24 hours. I'm done editing the August issue of Truckin' and it should be out sometime next week. I'm holding it back a few days so I can space it out with the last issue which came out about 10 days later than normal. As soon as I get to Amsterdam, I'll sit down to write a story for the September issue.
I got two very important emails on Thursday. The first one was from a editor who offered me to write a column for his magazine. He wanted me to pitch him a concept and I came up with a series called.... On the Road... where I write about my travels over the next few months. He loved the idea and we just have to figure out salary and deadlines. After losing a slew of freelance clients over the last year, I'm finally adding a new one. And I finally get to pick my subject along with style and tone of my column. Very excited about this possibility. At the least, it's a steady paycheck for a few months. At the best, it gets me more exposure as I get to finally showcase my writing ability. More details to come for sure.
The other bit of exciting news appeared in my inbox on Thursday evening. I was invited to attend a poker industry conference... in Sweden. A major Swedish company wants to pick my brain and get my opinion on a few projects they are launching soon. In exchange for my time, they'll provide me with a free hotel and free airfare from Amsterdam to Stockholm. My Amsterdam bender will be interrupted for two days while I head off to Sweden to attend the conference. Thanks goes out to Benjo for mentioning my name to the right people. As Nicky said, "You have lots of fans in Sweden."
Sweden. My first time. I'm pretty geeked about it and excited to visit a new place. Plus, don't forget to mention all the hot Swedish ass! I see Swedish women all over the place, but I have never saw them at the source.
Looks like I'll visiting four countries on this adventure. At some point on this journey, I'll be dealing with four different currencies.... US dollars, Euros (Amsterdam & Barcelona), Pounds (London), and Swedish Kronors.
I will be taking eight flights in all... NYC to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Stockholm; Stockholm to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Barcelona; Barcelona to Amsterdam then connect in Amsterdam to London, London to Amsterdam and connect in Amsterdam to fly home to NYC. Wish I had a direct flight home... but that was the cheapest flight I could find.
Next stop... Amsterdam.
New York can be a humbling city. It is also the perfect place to practice the toleration of assholes since there are so many of them. The sheer numbers of people you walk by on the street, stand next to on the subway, and work in the same building with total up to a high volume of daily human interaction that most Americans do not experience in other vehicular cities, small towns, and sprawling suburbs. Millions of idiots, nimrods, and assclowns. Everywhere.
Sometimes, I inadvertently evoke my powers of invisibility, which happens frequently in New York City. In front of Grand Central Station, a suit on his Blackberry crashed into me when he was too busy checking his email than to pay attention to when he walked. Of course, he quickly faulted me and barked, "Watch where you are going, buddy!"
Buddy? I didn't say anything to him and continued on my way as I muttered, "Blackberry douchebag. How many girls did you date rape this week, you cash poor hipster?!?"
The other morning at the bagel store, an old Jewish lady cut me in line. I was on deck and she ran up to the counter just as the person behind the counter yelled, "Next!"
I called her out right away. I pointed to everyone behind me and said, "I was next in line. You cut me and all these other people."
A fat guy wearing a wife beater, a Mets hat, and holding a rolled up newspaper chimed in, "Get to the end of the line!"
The person behind the counter would not take the order of the lady and she asked me what I wanted instead. The old lady gave me the evil eye like I was the bad guy. I wanted to say, "Fuck you cunt, and get your wrinkly ass to the back of the line!"
If she asked to cut, I would have said yes. She acted as though she was entitled to waltz up to the counter and get her toasted onion bagel with extra lox.
The other day, I encountered a run in with an unruly New Yorker on the uptown #1 subway train. I was seated and read Low Life by Luc Sante, a thick book about 400 pages in length. I held it up face high so I could read without straining my neck. An ethnic lady decided to stand right in front of me and grabbed the pole above my head. As the subway sped out of the station she fell into me and banged into my book. That's when she flipped out and accused me of hitting her on purpose.
"What?" I said. "I'm just sitting here."
She said a few other things but would not budge. There was plenty of other places she could have stood. At the other end of the train there were seats. For some reason she wanted to bust my balls and stood over me and trying to fall again into my book so she could start more shit. Some people are looking for trouble, As soon as the train arrived in the next station, the guy sitting next to me got up. I slid into his seat and said, "You smell bad so I'm going to find a new seat."
I jumped up and went to the opposite end of the subway car. She was stunned and didn't know what to say. And no, she really didn't smell bad, but I said it loud enough that around a dozen people heard it.
Errands. I have been running around doing a bunch of errands over the last few days. I made two trips to the post office. I paid several bills including writing two check worth over $4K each to the IRS. My second quarterly tax payment was due on July 17th and I missed it by a few weeks. I also decided to pre-pay the third quarterly payment due in September (for some odd reason). I also had to cut checks for my school loan and a $50 bill to the doctor when I went shortly before I left NYC. Money comes in and it quickly goes out.
I sat around for most of the afternoon on Wednesday waiting for a Fed-Ex package... my international cell phone. It finally arrived and I will be forwarding all my calls from the US and be able to answer my phone in Europe. I have a London number and get free incoming calls when I'm in England, so wait until I get there in early September to call me. Otherwise, email is the best option.
On Thursday afternoon, I wandered around Barnes and Nobles in the Flat Iron District. I read through a few Eastern Philosophy books and stopped to read five pages of Confessions of an Economic Hitman. I eventually bought a book to read during my flight to Europe. As soon as I get there, I'll give it away and hope to find another book. The last time I was in Amsterdam, some guy from Spain gave me a copy of The Iliad.
I purchased a new travel power adapter plug which is supposed to work in 150 countries. It comes in a cool traveling case. I never thought I'd be thumbing through magazines hawking travel products, but now I find myself both fascinated and interested at the products I see. These days, I'm not much for material items, but if there are things that can make my life easier on the road... then I'm interested. I find myself spending more and more time in the Brookstone stores in various airports and reading business traveler's websites and forums for tips on both business and international travel. I've racked up a ton of miles over the last three years, but I still have plenty to learn.
I went to the bank twice. I paid some bills via the ATM machine and did some other transactions. I also purchased a shitload of Euros, which I had to order and wait three days to pick up in Midtown. I asked for $100 bills and they gave me $50 bills. A lot of them. Over fifty. I wasn't happy. I only have one superstition and that is... I don't carry $50 bills. It's an old time gambler's superstition that I picked up in Las Vegas courtesy of Grubby. I try to convince myself that the superstition only applies to US currency and not Euros, Pounds, or Aussie bucks.
I purchased a direct roundtrip flight to Australia on Quantas for $1,500 (via LAX). In January, I flew on United. The leg from LAX to Sydney was infamous for being one of the worst international flights. Lucky for me, I was able to upgrade to business class on my way home. Anyway, I found a good deal and jumped. I can change my departure date once without a penalty and I can add any other flights within Australia for $150 each way. After my work assignment, I am considering side trips to either Uluru (aka Ayers Rock) and/or to New Zealand before I return to Melbourne for the infamous Melbourne Cup horse race.
I still have a few major things to do before I leave... like load up my iPod, do laundry, and pack. But for the most part, I'm almost ready to hit the road once again.
The last two days were productive. I caught up on writing assignments. I handed in my column for Poker Player Newspaper. I also worked on six different websites (Tao of Poker, Tao of Pauly, Truckin, My Music & Phish Blog, LasVegasVegas, and my Flickr gallery) over the last 24 hours. I'm done editing the August issue of Truckin' and it should be out sometime next week. I'm holding it back a few days so I can space it out with the last issue which came out about 10 days later than normal. As soon as I get to Amsterdam, I'll sit down to write a story for the September issue.
I got two very important emails on Thursday. The first one was from a editor who offered me to write a column for his magazine. He wanted me to pitch him a concept and I came up with a series called.... On the Road... where I write about my travels over the next few months. He loved the idea and we just have to figure out salary and deadlines. After losing a slew of freelance clients over the last year, I'm finally adding a new one. And I finally get to pick my subject along with style and tone of my column. Very excited about this possibility. At the least, it's a steady paycheck for a few months. At the best, it gets me more exposure as I get to finally showcase my writing ability. More details to come for sure.
The other bit of exciting news appeared in my inbox on Thursday evening. I was invited to attend a poker industry conference... in Sweden. A major Swedish company wants to pick my brain and get my opinion on a few projects they are launching soon. In exchange for my time, they'll provide me with a free hotel and free airfare from Amsterdam to Stockholm. My Amsterdam bender will be interrupted for two days while I head off to Sweden to attend the conference. Thanks goes out to Benjo for mentioning my name to the right people. As Nicky said, "You have lots of fans in Sweden."
Sweden. My first time. I'm pretty geeked about it and excited to visit a new place. Plus, don't forget to mention all the hot Swedish ass! I see Swedish women all over the place, but I have never saw them at the source.
Looks like I'll visiting four countries on this adventure. At some point on this journey, I'll be dealing with four different currencies.... US dollars, Euros (Amsterdam & Barcelona), Pounds (London), and Swedish Kronors.
I will be taking eight flights in all... NYC to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Stockholm; Stockholm to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Barcelona; Barcelona to Amsterdam then connect in Amsterdam to London, London to Amsterdam and connect in Amsterdam to fly home to NYC. Wish I had a direct flight home... but that was the cheapest flight I could find.
Next stop... Amsterdam.
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