Everything Mom Told Me Not To Do

Amsterdam was hellishly crowded. A human river flowed through the streets, making cars and trams a dangerous and wily minority. The lively crowds ebbed and flowed through parks, squares, and the ubiquitous ''coffee'' shops. Sreet performers entertained hundreds on nearly every corner. There was a tremendous energy because, heck, it was Amsterdam. This real Sin City makes Vegas seem laughably quaint. Like a hit from a bong, I took a deep breath and held it all in. A few girls and I started with a wake-and-bake at one of the aforementioned coffee houses. All that smoking built up an unquenchable thirst so we headed over to the Heiniken Experience Brewery Tour. It was completely surreal. Since this was no longer a functional brewery, you instead toured through an impressive array of multimedia exhibits and rides, got three beers and a free Heineken glass, all for $10. The strangest part was the ''What is it like to be a Heineken bottle?'' ride. You stand on a hydrolic floor plate - getting shaken and jostled around - while standing in front of a giant screen that makes you feel as if you are moving along a conveyer belt (along with hundreds of other bottles) getting washed, filled, capped, labeled, sorted, shuffled, boxed, and shipped. After our three beers we ambled out and I learned a valuable life lesson: when you are high and drunk, riding a bike is not just like riding a bike. We eventually figured out how to get the locks off and carefully made our way over to the Van Gogh Museum. Dissapointed not to see a display of a severed ear, I nevertheless enjoyed several of the pieces before moving on. I seperated from the ladies and did what any respectable gentleman of leisure would do by himself - I went to the Red Light District. So named due to the glow that will likely be emitting from your crotch after a visit, rows of women stand behind glass doors beckoning with a finger or a wink. You can have what's behind curtain number one, or you can trade it all in for what's in the box. Or, hell, you can pay to go behind curtain number one and dive head first into the box, it's your money. Honestly I found the whole thing rather distasteful, so I only slept with two of them. My adventures winding down, my pockets nearly empty, out of work, vagabonding around Europe, I did the only sensible thing...I went gambling...and I won about 120 euro. Life is good.