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doin’ da dam thang (holland fiction)

(this is a two part entry. please disregard the second part)

part 1: da dam





so, i just returned from a trip to amsterdam and surrounding cities. many people ask me why i decided to go there for my vacation, and the answer is because i have family that lives there and i love the women.

you can really find some attractive young women in amsterdam and rotterdam. i’m actually trying to find a way to live there for a year or so. i’d get in so much trouble, though. and by trouble i’m still referring to the women.

anyway, back to the main reason for my visit. i had some free time and i decided that i would spend some of that time with my family that i don’t get to see quite often. i had a great relaxing trip and thoroughly enjoyed my stay.

it has been brought to my attention on this trip that my aunt reads my blog, as does my mother. i told my mom she has to stop, but i doubt she’ll listen nor will my aunt. so, if i had any real owtragous adventures to speak of, i might sensor myself for fear of revealing my true inner beast to my folks. they know i am no angel, but they have no idea what i am capable of.

(so, i decided; to make this blog more exciting, i would add some fiction into my story. so if you just wanted to hear about my trip to holland, it is safe to stop reading at this point)

Part 2: holland fiction

a murderer in amsterdam (a kinda sorta fictional love story by: dick daly)

this story starts on my first day in amterdam. i decide to go for a jog around town. i run around amsteldijk and head a little into the city to lengthen my distance back home, slightly. en route to the my grand mother’s abode (where i am staying) i notice a cafe that advertises internet service to it’s patrons. i am in need of such service and decide to stop in and ask if what they are advertising is so. it isn’t. shit! the internet is down. but they clearly have plenty of coffee, fresh brewed, because the place reeks of it.

so, back to the internet. there is none. i already said, “shit!” i don’t  really seem to mind as much as i normally would, however, because the bearer of my bad news is quite a bad chick, herself. and by bad i mean, really good looking. i smile politely, i thank her and i make my way out. i get the feeling that she might be checking me out as i am leaving. i have on one of those under armor shirts so i hit her with a little flex in the back and triceps region before i step out.

i know what you’re thinking: “what a douche”. perhaps, but i call that body flirting. women do it all the time. it even works for me every now and then. but moving on.

as i continue my journey home, i can’t shake the feeling that maybe i need to see her again. and it is through this contemplation that i make the decision to go back later on that evening to see where such a visit would take me.

later on that evening

i go back to the cafe and to my delight, the fine brown thing is still there. as sexy as when i first met her… a few hours earlier. dark curly hair, with caramel brown complexion. soft eyes and a permanent cute little smile that never left her face for a second the whole time that i saw her. a full-bodied curvaceous thing, wearing everything that she owns very well.

we greet each other and she seems to recognize me. a good sign. but, we also both know that i came in earlier to inquire about the internet services and we also both know that she informed me of the inoperable status of said services. so, why am i here now? for some coffee of course. i order some.

i wait for an opportunity to spark a conversation. conversation is the key weapon in my arsenal when hunting. i’m not one of those guys that gets girls based on my looks. i am at peace with this fact.

i continue to actively seek an opportunity to speak. i find none. the current object of my affection is quite busy serving her patrons. all of a sudden she asks me what i’m doing in amsterdam. she saw my american passport and knew i was only visiting. i tell her i’m a traveling artist. this is a fact. she smiles. i also inform her that i do speak dutch quite fluently and that we can switch it up whenever she wants. we do for a little and shorty after she is occupied again serving her guests.

i soon realize that this situation is not ideal to make any deals at this time. it’s getting late at this point and i decide that i will just go to bed for the night. you can’t win ’em all and besides, it’s only my first night. i’m bound to run into her again, right?

days go by

it’s my second to last night in amsterdam and i have not seen my baby since. i’m slightly disappointed by this, but i don’t really sweat it. it’s around 11:00 p.m. and i decide to visit the cafe one last time. this time i am a man on a mission and to prepare, i fill my self with some liquid courage. i grab my keys, my bag, my swag and i go.

it’s nice and warm out. there is a gentle breeze whizzing through the alleys keeping me company along my short journey. i reach my destination. but right before i enter i remind myself that i am a beast. this is sort of my mantra. i do it before i do anything that will require me to be extraordinary.

inside i am greeted by a new lady. she was also mildly attractive, but not nearly as lovely as my sweetheart, but she was very friendly. i show my passport as she has not seen my i.d. before. i ordered some coffee and grabbed a seat. i start to speak to her in dutch, which impresses her and we have a rather entertaining conversation about a wide variety of topics. it was a much slower night since it was a tuesday. however, time flies. it’s 12:40 am and she informs me that she has to start closing up soon. she tells me i can stay until she leaves. i do.

so as she’s closing up i ask her what she normally does after work. she normally just goes home and ends up going to bed. i guess getting off work at 1:00 am doesn’t leave you much time or energy to go out.

i ask her if she has a man. she tells me no. so i ask her if she’s looking for a temporary one. before she answers i tell her not to get the wrong idea. i only meant for the remainder of the night. she giggles and tells me i am cute, but… (i knew there was a but) … she has a lady. lady, as in girlfriend.

at the utterance of this very sentence i decide that i really like this girl. i have a thing for girls that like girls, you see. but i also realize that i have put in all that work for nothing. i ask her if they are in love. she tells me that she loves her lady, but she does miss men a little. by now, i love this girl.

i’m a beast

i ask her if she would like to take me along to hang out with her and her lady for the night. she looks at me as if i’m a bit insane and i think that i may have gone too far with that suggestion. she says, no way. i say it could be fun. and she actually seems to be considering it. i add that we can put on some good music and dance for a while. i also wink conspicuously. she surprisingly says ok, but tells me that she needs to call her sweetheart first to inform and seek approval.

access granted. i’m such a beast

so we reach their apartment which wasn’t too far from the cafe, and what do i see when i enter? it is the very same girl from the other night that i became so smitten with.  this must be heaven! but i must say that heaven is a very quiet and a bit awkward. it does smell of fragrant incense and another subtle scents that i can’t quite put my finger on, but reminds me of  new furniture or fabric.

so we just sit there. i try to loosen the tension by making small talk. “very nice couch”. “thank you, it’s brand new”. “i can smell” “huh?” maybe this isn’t such a grand idea. but then i remember…

i’m a beast!

i tell them that i’m going to make my slef at home if they don’t mind. and they don’t. i walk to the kitchen and go to the fridge. i pull out a bottle of wine and bring along two glasses and a cup. they only had two glasses. i ask them if they mind. they don’t. we drink.

i interrupt our conversation about nothing of sever significance, and get up. i inform them that i’m gonna put on some music.  i go to their computer, which i noticed was connected to a very stylish sound system, and put on some “love making music” (that was the actual title of the pay list on the laptop).  the music began to play from the speakers that surrounded the living area, and quite a sound that sound system had. very impressive.

i rejoin the ladies and suggest that maybe we should dance a little, accompanied by that same conspicuous wink that i deployed earlier at the cafe. (a well-placed wink is invaluable when you are being coy). they sense that i am being coy and they decline my offer. fuck!

i notice them enjoying the rhythm of the music as much as the wine, which is nearly gone at this point.  then the girl i just spent all night with at the cafe makes a suggestion; her and her girlfriend will dance and i will just watch. so they did and so did i. i started out just watching but i kept inching closer, to get a better view, until all of a sudden i was in the middle of the action, but my clothes weren’t.

at first i didn’t know if i belonged, but i soon realize that i do. we danced and we danced and danced a little more. and i don’t mean to brag, but i put on quite a show. they seemed very impressed. i’m just glad i had my dancing shoes with me or else i might have missed out on such a great experience.

i’m what they call, a beast.

the dancing has stopped and we lay on the floor with me in the middle. maxwell – “this woman’s work” is playing quietly in the background. i remember thinking how much i liked this song and how long it’s been since i heard it. i start to drift into a trance which will lead into a deep slumber. i can’t. i must go. i give them each a gentle kiss on the forehead and tell them that i love them both equally, but i have to go before my grandma wakes up. they both laugh a little, but i have no shame.

the lady that was home all night isn’t ready to go to bed and asks me if i could stay for one more quick dance. i immediately decline.  she suggest that we just dance to a slow song, gently. i don’t have the time or energy and the other lady seems to be slowly drifting into sleep. i didn’t want to disturb her. but the energizer bunny, on the other hand, springs up and goes to the computer. she changes the song to d’angelo – “how does it feel?”, returns and spends the entire song (very long song) trying to entice me back into a dancing mood. she does. we dance.

i ended up murdering them both.

the end of my fictional story

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