Saturday night and the http://www.couchsurfing.com's/ Amsterdam couch requests group's saturday meet-up in Cafe De Gaaper - five minutes walk from the central railway station which is convenient considering tourists with Pas De Couch and Pas De Host don't have to go far in a - to them - unknow city dragging heavy packs along - is in full swing with potential hosts mostly outside smoking Marlboros and passing fat joints along, exchanging the latest experiences about sexually willing couchsurfers of different nationalities...I know of one host who keeps a checklist in his shirt pocket, making sure he gets p*ssy from a new country, checking his p*ssylist regularly to be on the safe side of P*ssy Land...( his words not mine!!! )
I work my way through the heavy clouds of Mary-Jane vapour mixed with excited typically male testosterone, though I detect some female hosts as well, bragging just as loudly as their male comtemporaries making me wonder if maybe they too carry the famous nationality checklist... I suppose it would be a H*rd-on list in their case unless they are more interested in the same sex...whatever not my business.
The inside of Cafe De Gaaper feels claustrophic, a game of shadows playing havoc on my eye sight where I detect huge carton boards that read "we need a host for tonite", or "EMERGENCY, NEED COUCH TONITE", and more of the same freeloading shit, Pas D'Argent, we need that for the coffee shop, their owners looking either hopefull at me or with eyes that somehow remind me of puppies begging for hand-outs at the dinner table!!!
Two Asian ladies that look like sisters catch my eye, wanting to get to know me, "we saw your profile on couchsurfing" they tell me with an accent that comes right out of the Land Of Ozz, adding they liked the artwork in my house, offering me a pint of beer...okay, that does it, I will take them home tonite.
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