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We had something to smoke and ambling began. No sooner had we began our leisurely strolling then my trusty precognition kicked in; I realised that we would have an improptu rendezvous with New Boy. At around 1:30 we were meandering down some busy street when a rogue ray of sunlight dazzled me, causing momentary blindness. What could have caused such unorthodox patterns in the light? What surface could so contaminate and warp standard reflection?? As my blindness cleared I became aware. Change was occuring, but the fear it caused was for once comfortingly familiar. A glowing Mescal beamed at us from down the street. I darted towards the rotund albino.
Words were exchanged. How was Scotland, we wondered, and got the expected engimatic reply. We gathered that it possessed quality. Despite an awkward journey the lad was in good spirits. The reasons for this all three were aware. He informed us that he had been in the city for many hours, and had gone so far as to leave us a note on the notice board of the pig. I thought it charmingly naive for him to believe we would have the presence of mind (or indeed any mind whatsoever) to check such a device unless all other options had exhausted themselves. Perhaps if he had not arrived for three or four days after his proposed arrival, and after several frantic emails from concerned relatives, then we then might check such a device as a notice board. New Boy assured us he did not really expect us to get the note in any case, and I was happy for once to accept this.
The plan was to smuggle this contraband character back into the flying pig. The equation was simple: we had two pass cards, there were three peeps. Nonetheless we did not do the obvious, preferring to try and sneak him in the following haphazard manner. I took his bag in and threw it on my bed. Dan followed with newboy, flashing his card at the desk girl and hoping she would not ask mescal to show his card (they usually did). The simple solution became clear as I sat chatting with Paul Bag. Dan and I go in with our cards. One person goes out with both cards. It the event it mattered not, we had succeeded in eliminating newboys need to pay.
We allowed mec a few seconds to refamiliarize himself with the lavish surrounding of the pig before insisting most vehemently that he skin up some fat ones. For his amusement, I produced my attempts at joints. He was open in his contempt not only for them but for me. This confirmed that it was indeed mescal I was dealing with, not some crazed, and unfortunate, impostor. I moaned about dans inability to skin up in order to, if not redirect his scorn , then at least split it between the original party.
We did some eating and strolling, with the safety net of real joints giving us infinite comfort. We took another trip on the free ferry, as I felt it may appeal to newboys delicate sensibilites. Ambling about the other side, we came accross a high school. Millions of super cool dutch teenagers milled about outside, as our arrival and evidently coincided with the end of the school day. We relected as a group how different and superior their school lives must be to our own, being as it was a mixed school IN amsterdam. There was no getting around it. My theory that I would have screwed up my leaving had I been smoking gear began to form. Though I still believe it to be so, I now wonder if that would have been such a bad thing given my current situation. Before I force myself not to think about It.
* Several minutes of painful self-examination pass *
Right. Ok. Later that evening hoolers donned the cap of tradition and made claims to the effect that he was ill. As is the way, symptoms were non-specific and met with little sympathy, rather acceptance by the New Two for this latest bout of hooleritis. Our evenings path was clear. The siren call brought us to the red light district.
My memories of the place are ones of ogling. We ogled at saucy dolls behind the windows of one street. We ogled at dolls behind the windows on another street. We passed down one narrow street with many windows containing many dolls. We ogled at them. They were saucy. Ogling too long, one came out of her window to appeal to me. My man mind, unable to react logically to the situation I found myself in, sent feelings of guilt through me when I turned down offers. The man mind rendered near useless, *something* screamed "They wish to bang you, ed". It was only by constantly reminding myself of my cash situation (insert own "feeling my pockets" gag here) that logic defeated libido. Eventually it began to pour rain and we were forced to retreat.
After this fascinating experience, a mellowing smoke was more than necessary. It was beyond important. It went further than key. Luckily we were in the right place, and we retired to the pig to take care of this. Here we were faced with unusual television, on a comforting station. Sky 1 were screening some crazy a martial arts show. The room finally settled on watching this, enchanted by its bizarre nature. Mescal even eyed it, despite his vast hatred for television. If the wise founders of the Anti TV Guild discovered this transgression his membership may be revoked so keep it to yourself kids.
Sleep was sought by newboy so i eventually burned off to bed sometime in the early hours. For once the man who has slept in a a meatlocker, three septic tanks and on the surface of pluto(-228 C), had some difficulty in attaining the one prize he always feels he deserves. I slept like the long dead. It was bliss.