making a hash of a robbery.....
Amsterdam. Well somewhere outside Amsterdam, no real clue where. After a hefty day dancing in the Dutch sun at Dance Valley (a rather insane techno festival populated with rather insane, drugged-up techno fans from across Europe) back in 1997.

To get there seemed to involve a train and several buses. Now in the morning this is fine, but after a long, hot, drug-addled day, one's capacity for rational, coherent thought is somewhat diminished.

So there we found ourselves in the Dutch countryside in the middle of the night with pockets- and heads full of drugs trying to figure out which is the right mode of transport to take us back into sweet 'damnation.

I was approached by a guy of Moroccan origin and pressed to buy some hash from him. For ridiculous prices. I laughed and reminded him that it was actually for sale in a number of venues across the city. Further I had a stash already.

He proceeded to pull out the most pathetic looking knife i had ever seen and again told me to buy his hash. My laughter seemed to further agrivate him and he then demanded my wallet and drugs.

By this point it was no good; i had the giggles and just couldn't take him seriously. My mate's girlfriend appeared, and seeing I was in no state to do anything, promtly told him where to stick his hash.

It was only after he had scuttled away into the crowd that i fully realised i had just mocked a knife wielding thug with a head full of drugs.

Earlier that day we had attempted to deposit our bags in the lockers in Central Station to collect later. I had flung open the door on one sizeable locker only to be greeeted by a woman smoking crack, mid-drag. She looked up with lighter in hand. In true British style I smiled, apologised for disturbing her and closed the door.

Amsterdam; ya gotta love it...
(thebigcheese thebigcheese, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 14:42, Reply)