Amsterdam – Part 4 Sex and Drugs
Been a while since I started posting this last Amsterdam series. It would be hard to end without something on sex and drugs—what Red Light’s all about. Tourist come here to look, I come each year to look at people. They are interesting to watch from the front porch of Torenzicht Hotel. I constant flow or passers by reminds me of the roundabout aquarium in San Francisco—such a wide variety of life, and colors. Tour groups, mom and dads, young lovers, college kids on break, and motorcycles make their way along these crowded, narrow streets within this Disneyland of XXX.
Not much has changed this year. There seem to be fewer window hookers this year, but there are more than enough to go around. They remind me of one of Steven King’s Dark Tower series. A ghost town with robotic hookers—and we have robotic hookers now, some pretty good ones, but expensive. Getting more sophisticated every year. Soon they will be well read, and really not that different than the real thing, which turns out to be fifteen minute fantasy at best.
It’s almost scary. How long will it be before someone buys one of these $1,600 dolls and sets it up in one of the sidewalk windows? Sex sells. Couples line up for 20 minute waits to see the live sex show at Casa Rosso.
Price of admission is 50 Euros, and the line is endless, mostly young and mostly couples, sometimes groups of giggling girls. 108 seats inside. 180 x 50 = $9,000 per show, ten shows a day. The owner seen sometimes with bodyguards. He owns a string of lesser shows like this along the street. Big money, and the coffee shops make money too, but not so many as before. I noticed three, the Bulldog, that’s been here forever.
I passed by Central Coffee shop in my way back from the Maritime Museum. First time I have ever noticed this one, on the other side of two wide avenues in front of Central Station. I had a cup of coffee and observed an endless line of customers of every age and race. Some still have suitcases in hand—first stop. They que in wait for two busy dealers. Five grams the most that one can buy, and twenty bucks the least that one can pay.
Feels Good is still here. It opened last year. Always crowded, buyers wait in line.
These are the only major places operating in the Red Light. All the other, older coffee houses have been outsourced to more respectable neighborhoods such as Rembrandtplein. These are much less crowded, slower paced.
I love the pot names: Amnesia, Oceans 12, Master Kush, Gorelle Glue, Crystal Lady, Mango Madness and Samago, just to name a few. New forms of paraphernalia is also fascinating—and expensive.
There’s all kinds of bongs, of course.
The Hurricane’s design is different from other pipes in that its corpus is specifically designed to make the smoke swirl, similar to a hurricane. Fine punctures are made along its corpus, creating air-jets which filter out tar particles. Because the smoke rises in a cyclone-like fashion, the centrifugal force pushes the tar particles against the inner wall, where they will be collected through the air-jets. It is advertised as a double-filtered pipe because of this extra form of tar extraction. Different versions of Hurricanes vary in size, as well as in the number of air-jets they have. Having more air jets increases the velocity flow of the smoke when inhaling, which results in a quicker, faster “hit”. (Taken from Wikipedia) .
There are all kinds of vapes of course.
One can also buy a Volcano.
These run from $400 to $1000.
Who buys these strange devices? Seems like it would be so much simpler to simply roll a joint. Bringing one of them home on the plane seems iffy, but whatever. I turned 80 this year. Maybe I’m just getting too damn old for these newfangled things.