Hot Ink
I have no idea how a simple afternoon outing to buy interview-ey yet kicky outfits for Vanessa (my little sister) led to me telling her and OG the following story:
Many, many years, months, weeks, days and hours ago, I lived in the Red Light district of Amsterdam. I lived in a hostel with OG's father and two sailors from wherever the hell Brigitte Nielsen is from for 4 or 6 months, let's say 5 but it could have been 3. Amsterdam is like that.
On the corner of the hostel was a sex theater that set itself apart by its unique architecture and the particular, very specific, sex shows that happened inside. The building was designed to look like an olde timey barn from Ireland or England, complete with quaint dutch doors and faux thatch roof. It was a circular, squat building and you would think it was a beer garden or something equally quaint and full of lederhosen.
Not so, my friends.
Lining both sides of the main entrance were small framed photographs of what went on inside. The whole place was dedicated to one lady who um, performed a very special skill. The photos spanned something like 20 years of this woman's career. It showed her first guest lying on the floor, fully dressed but with his shirt open and the woman squatting over his chest and writing his name. It's barely legible. The guy's name takes up all of his chest and it's a mess of loops and I can sort of make out that everyone's name happens to be Roger or Rutger. (Use your imagination and you can guess where she kept her pen.)
Next photo is the happy customer standing up, smiling with his name scribbled across his chest. Of course, for the sake of privacy, his photo had that international black bar across his eyes like a "Fashion Don't!" victim in a magazine. She was naked, pen in hand, big smile and black bar over her eyes, too. She probably didn't want her family of world famous calligraphers to Dutch royalty shamed into seeing what had become of her.
The photos go on and on with happy men posing for the camera, our lady squatting, scribbling, getting older and her penmanship never improving.
13 comments:
wait, where did she keep her pen???
And hey, if you cant find another decent job, are you ready for SHOW BUSINESS???? (:0)
Amsterdam sounds like such an interesting place to visit...I really have to go!
John Travolta didn't mention anything about this in Pulp Fiction.
20 years of excellence. LOL!!! What a skill.
Thanks for the interesting VAGINA story.
And I thought that writing with your feet was impressive. I guess a girl's gotta have her skills.
Curious. You've been to Europe. They are more open about sexuality than we are. Do you think that their openness creates more perverts? Or do you think that our society creates more perverts.?
Isn't Amsterdam so special?
Amsterdam is very special. As far as perverts, they're all over the place. Amsterdam is just smart enough to regulate it, license it, make sure everyone is over 18, and tax the hell out of it. In the US we should do the same.
Well, I personally believe that being open about sex would result in less 'perverts' but I've never been over there so I wondered if I was right.
grody!! I hate when I chew on a pen & get it slimy, so... ahem.
i know that place!
Lx - Can she still be in business all these years later? Maybe she passed her pen down to her daughter?
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