When momma told you, “keep your hands out of the cookie jar,” what was your response? I know for a fact, NO meant YES in my book. Comically enough, I’m about twenty something years older and a hell of a lot wiser, yet the same response applies. When planning our travels to Amsterdam, the one big no no many friends highlight was to, “stay away from the space cakes.” Can you guess what the response to that suggestion was? Oh yes, we got off that plane, train, and uber-mobile and went directly for a shop with the largest assortment of space cakes.
The exciting way this story would pan out would be if we ate those space cakes right away and we drifted off into a hallucinogenic fairyland of strawberry fields forever. But, that wasn’t exactly the way we rolled. One preface of adult-like decision making we attempted to establish from the get-go, only before dabbling in Amsterdams accessible temptations, was “SAY NO TO DRUGS… from any and all creepy people on the street.” Not in general, sorry mom.
With that being said, two things went wrong on this trip. 1) We ate the space cakes, and full body malfunction began to occur. After about three trips around the same block in an uber and handing off my phone to a nice employee at Starbucks, it was fair to say we came to discover why our friends may have advised against this infamous cake. Fortunately for us, we were able to make some stupid-funny videos of ourselves to document the evidence of survival after miraculously making it back to our Airbnb, and devouring a whole pizza. And, 2) We said Yes to drugs... by accident?
We were convinced the second night was going to be mellow. Well, that's what we told ourselves, anyway. The evening grew dim as we strolled down beautifully lit streets and canals, with googly eyes for the city. Clearly distracted, a guy, very easily defined as one of those potential “street-creeper,” walked by and stopped us with means to start a little middle of the street chat. Can you see where this is going? Yes, as you probably guessed, rule number two was quickly broken, and those funny feels we had just ditched the day before made a second appearance like an unforgiving tickle-monster. First, you laugh, then you cry of laughter, then you freak out, and then potentially run for dear life, in no distinct direction.
Four more days were spent in the city before we managed to make it out alive, but you could say we defined the word “domesticated” for the remainder of the trip. But just like Vegas, “what happens there, stays there…” until you go back again, or share it on your blog! Ba-dum-chh!