Amsterdam Coffee Relapse

I gave up coffee three weeks ago. Maybe four. Sleeping was becoming a nightmare and something had to give. Problem was I tried a bunch of things at the same time that I gave up coffee. But I’m sleeping better so I continue to avoid it. Until now, that is.

I landed in Amsterdam this morning at 5:30 am. If you take the time difference into consideration, I pretty much landed at the time that I would normally be going to bed. I didn’t sleep on the plane at all either. I couldn’t if I tried. Even listening to music was difficult in the tiny little nook I occupied. I had one of those seats that’s right up against the wall and I couldn’t recline. But this didn’t prevent the person in front of me from leaning back all the way the entire time. The only thing that seemed to work for me was watching movies. So I watched two. Coming To America because I’m sort of on an Eddie Murphy kick, and Marie Antonette, because, well, I’m going to Paris.

So after landing I quickly figured out the train and got to Central Station. Then I walked around for what seemed like forever trying to find my room. When I found it the sign said that they were not open until 9. This was around 7. Then it started to rain. No problem, I thought, I’ll just find a coffee shop and surf the internet and kill a couple hours. Wrong. I could grab a croissant and eat it in the rain. That was about it. I couldn’t find a place to kill two hours no matter how many streets I walked down.

Then I met Anthony. I didn’t trust him at first. “Hey, are you an American?” Like I didn’t have tourist stamped on my forehead as I wheeled my suitcase down the brick streets- probably waking everyone up with sound. Anthony’s shtick is to give people tours. I needed someone to point me in the right direction badly. So I started walking with him. He’d go on and on about how I had to take a picture of this or that, and I think he described the red light district as being “like a football field, four canals and four blocks” about ten times. He gave me the lowdown on weed, even though I said I wasn’t going to smoke any, and he told me where the best girls were if I wanted to go window shopping later on. But best of all, he pointed me to a coffee shop. Something I desperately needed more than anything. And what was this coffee shop that I had missed during my three hours of walking around? McDonalds. That’s right. A real fucking tourist. But I didn’t care. Anthony kept going on and on how I needed a guy like him to show me around and how he lived in the states for 21 years, but I’ve never had coffee this good from a McDonalds. It came out of an espresso machine and it was great. Of course the finally being able to sit down might have had something to do with it.

Gradually Anthony’s stories became a little more outrageous. He served time for armed robbery in 1982….then something else happened that got him deported from the US. I didn’t want to know too much. But he seemed like a pretty decent guy. I gave him 7 Euros…he’s unemployed and this is how he makes his money. It was totally worth it for pointing me in the direction of the coffee alone.

But now I’m checked into my room. Minneapolis time is 3:28am. But it’s 10:28 here. I’d love to take a little nap. Let’s hope the tiredness can override the coffee.