Q Day

We left at 2pm on April 29, and arrived at 9am on the 30th. There were people in orange all over the airport, because Apr 30th is Queen's Day in Amstedam. People apparently come from all over to party there. There was a gorgeous young Frenchman with his fag hags on the train with us, but he was oblivious to our presence. Rather than walk, Chip opted for a cab to the hotel. It was longer than I'd have thought, so I guess that was good. We showered, fooled around a little, then got dressed and headed out. We both wore the hat and socks I bought, but the suspenders barely fit me, so Chip couldn't wear them. On a day noted for it's Wild Craziness, most people were just sort of wearing orange. A lot of orange, but not very many zany folks around, and Chip and I got our picture taken a number of times. We walked up to Central, around the gay area before stopping for a bite to eat and making our way back. One guy walking past rubbed my nipple, which I was initially flattered by. He made another pass and snapped my suspenders from behind, at which point I figured he was just being a jackass. Another group of youths made some comment about fags, and then said something in broken English that I couldn't understand. We got lost a couple of times, and the crowd was neverending. I kept charging through one section, only to be met by another gust of drunken revelers. A fight broke out on one of the street corners. If we hadn't been already on our way home, I would have taken that as a sign. Q Day seems a lot like St. Patty's in PB.

We napped at the hotel...or maybe slept. It was 5 hours, and I'm not sure at what point the word changes. Chip had heard good things about a bar called Prik, and I wanted to check out Church. Prik was fine; small, mixed. We had a drink there, people watched some, then made our way down to Church. Chip's international plan for his phone had kicked in, so we were able to follow a map with a moving marker for where we were. They were having an underwear party at Church, and provided a clothes check, but not a place to change. I thought I got all my stuff onto my hanger. We danced for a while...the music was okay. I had thought earlier how funny it would be to run into someone I knew while I was there, and sure enough, Juergen and Josemar were on the dancefloor. Of all the people to meet, I'm least surprised to see them. Juergen is Belgian, and they both travel quite a bit. Chip checked out the darkroom downstairs, but it was pitch black. I looked too - pitch black. Another bottom tried to make out with me. Joined Chip on the dance floor; he wanted one more coke before leaving. I suggested we watch the crowd from the second floor, but got stopped by a GORGEOUS man on the way up. I wasn't sure he wanted me to follow him, but couldn't imagine him stopping me to make out and then just walking away without wanting me to follow. I blew him upstairs for a bit, and then he fucked me with a condom. First up against the wall, then on my back on a bench. It wasn't *that* warm, but I was sweating buckets. His name is Alan, and he's from Huntington Beach. All the way to Amsterdam to meet a guy from HB. Wild. He took a break, I sucked him off some more, and he was going to fuck me again, but it was getting on towards 2am, and Chip needed to catch a train at 5:40. Bid goodbye to Alan, then started the long trek back.

It wouldn't have been nearly as long if we hadn't stopped and asked for directions. A couple of security guards sent us in exactly the wrong direction. A young lady told us to go in another direction, and to just take a cab to the hotel. Chip's iphone finally died a few blocks from the hotel, but he was able to get us there. I'm glad I didn't stay when he left; would NEVER have found my way home.