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"We bought exotic varieties of cannabis and smoked them in the narrow alleys surrounding the Warmoesstraat. The cannabis fumes from our joints mingled with the stench of urine left behind by the men who’d gone before us.
We drank beer from greasy glasses, we found our way past dealers and junkies and ate chips soaked in mayonnaise."

 
 

"I was sixteen or so when me and my friends caught the train
from Twente to Amsterdam to buy some magic mushrooms.
We had planned to take them with us and eat them once we were back home,
but we never got around to doing that.
They just lay in my desk drawer for three years,
tucked away behind games and schoolbooks, before I binned them. 
Looking back, the mushrooms were essentially an alibi
to get acquainted with the hedonism of the big city.
We bought exotic varieties of cannabis and smoked them
in the narrow alleys surrounding the Warmoesstraat.
The cannabis fumes from our joints mingled with the stench of urine
left behind by the men who’d gone before us. 
In Amsterdam’s typical dark bars we drank beer from greasy glasses,
we found our way past dealers and junkies,
and ate lukewarm meatballs and chips soaked in mayonnaise.
We were stared at by the women behind windows, their bodies covered in a red glow.
The vacant gaze of those women haunted me for weeks. 
Full of expectation, I sat front row during a strip club visit.
The woman on stage demonstrated blowjob techniques with a banana,
which she then used to perform other sex acts,
most of which we didn’t even know existed.
In the end I was the lucky one who got to eat that banana,
but I ended throwing it up that same evening."