Chapter 20

Dropped off in the center of Amsterdam by Nils who needed to get back to work, he promised to pick them up at the same place in four hours. Immediately Sarah sought out a coffee house to buy some weed. Nils provided them with a map of downtown, circling the red light districts but not the coffee houses of course since he never indulged. Not a problem though, since the younger, scraggier fellows walking the streets would know.

A trio seemed to fit the bill. A tall man with pale skin and reddish blonde hair, redder than Melissa's, long both from his scalp and from his chin and thick and unruly even trapped in a pony tail wearing a t-shirt and worn khakis walked with a large man with straight brunette hair past his shoulders wearing a Minnesota Vikings jersey. With them was a pretty brunette woman in her thirties, older than the men but closer in age to the Viking than the redhead, her hair also long and straight and dark and hanging loosely down most of her back. She wore the white shirt and black slacks uniform of a waitress in a fairly upscale restaurant.

"You look familiar," said the tall man with an accent that somehow married Australian with the accent Nils used speaking English. He looked at Vic.

The woman pulled a heavy magazine, the fall collection Vogue, from her large purse and paged in a few pages. "Of course you do, Reno. You just saw her." She spoke a cultured English with a hint of a Dutch accent. "Would you sign this for me, Miss Cole?"

"Of course," smiled Vic, taking the magazine and the sharpie. "Please call me Vic. And you are?"

"Brigitte. This gangly idiot is Reno, and the Viking's name is Pete."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Vic," said Pete in a rougher Dutch accent.

"I'm Melissa and this is my girlfriend Sarah."

They shook hands and Vic scribbled a signature on the Lacoste ad.

"We're interested in scoring some marijuana," Sarah explained.

Reno's permanent smile got bigger and Brigitte giggled. "Ah, Reno's favorite assignment. Unfortunately these big lugs happen to be escorting me to work or I'd love to accompany you. Speaking of which, we best be going."

"It's on the way," said Pete.

The three women followed the three Amsterdamers in a quick march. They watched Brigitte kiss her friends in the European manner of both cheeks and walk into a large corner restaurant.

"Follow me," smiled Reno and continued his brisk pace. Pete faded back to join the three women.

"Does he always walk like that?" asked Melissa.

"I'm afraid so," shrugged Pete. "And it's not like he ever really needs to be in a hurry. I think it's because he walks everywhere instead of taking the tram even if his destination is miles away. Have you ladies been here before?"

"It's our first trip to Europe. We're from the US," said Sarah.

"New York?" Pete asked.

"New Jersey."

"Ah. The home of Springsteen."

"Among others," giggled Sarah.

"I've been, but mostly jobs, in and out you know," said Vic.

"Well, you've picked well, ladies. Reno loves to show off his city. Just give him your interests and he'll create the perfect itinerary."

"You and Brigitte sound like you're from here, but Reno..." Sarah inquired.

Pete nodded. "We lived in a caravan for years, sort of resident outcasts. Reno's name is really Ian, but we had one already. He's from Reno, Nevada."

"It's a cool name," said Melissa.

"Yeah."

"He doesn't sound like he's American," Sarah pointed out.

"He's like a sponge with accents. He lived in Australia for a couple years. Then he absorbed our accent. Unfortunately he moved away a year ago, lives with his Spanish girlfriend in Barcelona."

"I love Barcelona," said Vic.

"Yes. It's only unfortunate for his old caravan pals. He loves it too. It's great seeing him when he pops up. Ah, here we are."

They entered a narrow store front with a long counter. Ian charged to the end of the space and grabbed a menu. Sarah looked at it too, not over his shoulder since he was quite a bit taller. "That's so bizarre," she said.

"Product with the seed source. I have to show you guys the seed market."

"What's heaven cake?"

"Like hash brownies."

"I want some. Get five of them for all of us. And I want the best of the pot."

"How much?"

"Could we bring it to Paris?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. How are you travelling?"

"I don't know. Vic?"

"I planned on staying until Thursday when I need to fly to Milan," Vic said.

"Our plans are up in the air," Sarah cogitated. "How long are you staying? Pete said you live in Barcelona now."

Reno smiled bigger. "I'd love to show it to you. I'm leaving Wednesday. You won't need to bring pot there."

"How come you're leaving Wednesday?" Melissa asked.

"I came for a festival this past weekend, a group named Gong and their disciples. I wanted to hang out with my old caravan friends, but miss my Rita and don't want to overstay my welcome."

"You're always welcome," said Pete.

"I know, but..." Reno shrugged.

"Buy me enough for a few joints. We can always get more," Sarah decided. "Buy some for yourself as well."

Handing him the Euros, Sarah watched the transaction, amazed at its mundanity.

"How about we head to the Black and White and I roll this up for you," Reno suggested. "It's a bar not far from here."

"We're seventeen," Sarah confessed.

"It's cool," smiled Reno.

The small bar with the trademark Rolling Stones lips image which Reno explained had been grandfathered in and thus didn't infringe, accepted Reno like a brother home from the war. He bought rounds of beer for everyone and kept them coming. Everyone ate their heaven cake and shared a couple joints. No one felt any pain.

"There's the Anne Frank tourist, the Von Gogh tourist and the red light tourist," Reno categorized.

"I'd love to see the Van Gogh museum," said Sarah, excited.

"Let's go there tomorrow. It's quite nice."

"Mostly we're the red light tourists," said Melissa with a giggle.

"How come?' asked Reno.

"The experience," Sarah explained.

"Sarah wants to interview the girls," Vic completed.

"And if you know of any strip joints..." Sarah inquired.

Vic pointed out, "Nils will help us there."

"Call him," said Melissa. "We can have him meet us where he recommends."

"You want to interview strippers as well?" Reno asked tongue in cheek.

"Yes," said Sarah.

"She thinks she's a PhD candidate," shrugged Vic. "I am one. I guess I inspired her."

"Tell us about it," Pete suggested to Vic.

When she explained her thesis, she lost Reno and Pete but fascinated Sarah. Melissa held on because she sensed Sarah's interest.

When Vic ran out of steam, Reno and Pete chuckled. "You got all that?" Reno asked Sarah.

"Most of it."

Reno and Pete exchanged a head shake. Pete spoke for them with a sigh, addressing Sarah. "Lovely and brilliant, you're quite a young woman. Probably attached."

"She likes girls, Pete," Melissa explained. "I go both ways." Their eyes clung together and Pete reddened. "Is Brigitte your girlfriend?"

"Used to be. Sometimes. She just got over breaking up with a long time beau. But..." He glanced at Reno.

"I'm attached, so... ," said Reno.

"Let's just be friends," Vic suggested, looking at Melissa who shrugged and nodded.

Another caravan friend joined them, a few years older than Pete, Welsh and dark haired. Cliff turned out quieter than the others but interesting and intelligent. Since Reno obviously wanted time with his old friends, the group decided to split. Reno suggested taking the tram to the train station and entering the biggest red light district from there. He drew a line on the map illustrating the way into the area. The girls set a plan to meet him in front of the Rembrandt museum near where they had first met at 10 am the following day.

None of the women could believe the number of red curtained doors they passed along larger streets and small alleys. Most of the glass doors contained women standing in skimpy lingerie advertising their wares.

"So many choices," sighed Sarah. "Older, younger, attractive, less attractive, white, black."

"Let's split up and meet back here in an hour," Vic suggested. "That way we can maybe find the most interesting and intelligent ones to make the better interviewees."

"I'm going to choose mine as the most interesting subjects to draw," said Sarah.

"Mine will be the youngest and least comfortable," smiled Melissa.

"I guess I'll go for the old timers," sighed Vic, "unless I spot a true beauty." The girls laughed.

Each splitting off in three directions, they soon realized the problem. None of them had the proper equipment. Both Melissa and Vic bravely attached themselves to the men seeking relief and offered to pay them and the prostitute to accompany the session. Vic made it clear she only wanted to observe but promised she'd reveal her body, which made the men eager for her company. Melissa had no such qualms and shared the suck and the fuck with the whore. She sucked the whore's quim while the woman sucked the client, and relieved the whore of getting fucked by having the client fuck her while the client happily sucked the whore. Each time, and there were three for Vic and two for Melissa, they waited until the john left before talking to the woman.

Sarah simply paid the prostitute to let her draw her, chatting with the woman while she drew. One of the three wanted her, so they performed a sixty-nine after the drawing had been done.

The woman, a chubby and plain brunette, her accentuated curves on her robust flesh and her lively, expressive face making for a fascinating subject for portrait drawing, ended up being an interesting interview subject as well.

Of the three women Vic met, the beauty she found proved to be the more compelling subject. The older women seemed rather dull.

Melissa, going a bit overboard in her lusty encounters, found neither woman able to speak English well and one had been a bit lax sexually until Melissa provided her magic touch.

When they met back up they headed to the club where they would meet Nils. Not at all like an American strip joint, this club featured live sex. While discussing their decisions over the throbbing disco and the mic'ed moans, Sarah drew the scene, tipping the manager and the performers as a sort of bribe to allow it. The weird voyeur atmosphere thrilled her both sexually and artistically. Her drawing captured not just the performers, but the voyeurs closest to the action. When she refined it over several hours later, it became one of her most compelling works, a sort of contemporary Lautrec, an exaggerated capturing of a scene.

Nils had joined them within a half hour. He found hinself amused by their recounting of their little adventures and his libido stirred by their lusty stories, the sex performance and the beauty of his ladies. His cock remained stiff for most of their time there.

Vic leaned into him, her hand pressed against his hardness and stroking it. "Did you ever have a favorite?"

"Yes," he blushed, "though I am afraid to reveal her."

"Why's that, my love?"

Nils sighed. "I ... I cannot say it."