Back to Amsterdam

So I decided to head back to Amsterdam. It was an easy decision to make – I love that city. I had been there once before and enjoyed my experience quite a bit. Of course winter isn’t very far away, so I decided to get while the getting was good. I’m also heading back in about one month, but this posting is about the second trip I took…

The adventure started off a bit shaky as I actually got on the wrong tram at the Rathaus stop. It was strange though as the usual trams heading down to the Hauptbahnof (main train station) were mysteriously absent from the displayed tram schedule. I then misread the board and decided to take the #2 tram as I thought it was going to the Hauptbahnof (or at least very near it). Turns out that where this #2 tram was actually headed was to the Hauptfriedhof – which apparently means “main cemetery”. I guess I need to be a bit more careful when reading the line destinations on the tram timetables… I got on the #2 tram…

There was a lady that boarded this tram a few stops later with a couple of kids. She made the mistake of asking me (in German, of course) if this tram was going to the Hauptbahnof and I said, “Ja” since I actually did think it was. A couple stops later she asked this older lady that was sitting in our car something and then got off at the next stop with her kids. This is when I started wondering if the tram was going to the Hauptbahnof or not and decided to get off at the next stop. It was a good decision as I later found out that the Hauptbahnof wasn’t even on the tram’s route (explained above…). So I basically walked the rest of the way to the train station. It was a good thing that I gave myself plenty of time to get there… So for all you people out there that keep teasing me about arriving to places early – this is why I do it; you never know what to expect (especially when you’re trying to survive in a foreign country...).

I actually arrived at the station at about 9:30am. My train was scheduled to be departing at 9:51. I used this little extra time to pick up a new month pass for the Braunschweig trams and busses. They ain’t cheap at €47.50 but it’s much easier than having to pay €1.90 each time you hop on a bus. I like convenience and I was now set for public transportation for the next month … all was cool…

The IC 2132 train from Braunschweig to Hannover was right on schedule this time. I was happy about this as I really didn’t want to miss my connection in Hannover as I had the last time I made this trip. I hopped on board, found my seat and took the quick little 45 minute ride to Hannover. I was a bit hungry on the train (I hadn’t eaten yet...) but decided to wait for the IC 144 leaving Hannover before I would try to get something to eat. That’s the great thing about the IC trains – they all have a Bistro car where (if you’re lucky enough to get a seat) you can purchase yourself some food. I figured I’d wait for the next train since the one I was on was a short trip – the trip from Hannover to Amsterdam was scheduled to be something like 5 hours – there’ll be plenty of time to eat…

So I make my connection in Hannover and decide to just grab a seat in the Bistro car. There were a couple other people in the car, but nobody was eating anything. It wasn’t until a bit later that I decided I should just walk up to the counter and see if I could get some food. There is usually a wait staff (well, at least one person) that would serve you but nobody appeared to be doing this on this trip. I come to find out that, due to “technical difficulties”, the kitchen wasn’t working. I was able to get a croissant, a bag of “Nic Nacs – The Double Crunch Peanuts” and a beer. Oh well, I guess I’ll have to wait to eat a real meal in Amsterdam (which I actually didn’t do until very early the next morning … I had things to do…).

The train ride seemed to be going along without any troubles and it was a bit later that I decided it was time to start “getting ready” for Amsterdam. I once again headed up to the counter and ordered another beer and a couple Jägermeißters. I was actually allowed to buy only one Jägermeißter (for reasons that I am still unsure of … guess they don’t want the train packed with a bunch of drunk people) so I ended up getting a beer and a (just one) Jägermeißter. I drank my drinks and continued the train ride.

When we stopped in Bad Bentheim, we got delayed for 45 minutes – apparently they needed to do some sort of maintenance work on the train. (I’m starting to get the impression that these trains are rather well known for their “technical difficulties”.) It was here that Sylvia (the Bistro maid) shut down the Bistro counter and went on one of her mandatory breaks. This was cool since Sylvia actually spoke English and she came over and sat at the table across from mine. At least I had somebody to talk to for the wait and Sylvia seemed like a nice enough person. I found out that it was actually her 28th birthday. This doesn’t really relate to the story at all, but it was her 28th birthday… As I was sitting there chatting with Sylvia, this other guy pretty much invited himself in to our conversation. It was some dude from Australia (spoke English pretty well) and he apparently really thought that we needed to hear his life story. That’s cool and all, but it kinda broke the flow of the conversation I was having with Sylvia. It didn’t matter much though as Sylvia needed to re-open the Bistro counter anyway…

This older couple (looked to be in their early 60’s or so) walked up to the counter and I heard the lady attempting to order something in English. They then got their drinks and sat at the table next to mine. I asked them where they were from (I think I might have surprised them a bit by speaking English to them) and they said America. Upon further probing I discovered that they were actually from Kentucky and were on their way to Amsterdam to catch a flight home. We chatted for a bit about experiences that we had been through while over in Europe and they decided to head back to their seats shortly after the train began moving again. I didn’t get their names, but I did take a snapshot. Nice enough couple…

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful. Sylvia needed to get off at the next stop since the unscheduled delay would force her to miss her return trip (working trip, of course) from Amsterdam. I guess there was some way for her to possibly catch the train at some other stop. I really don’t know, but she knew what she was doing and I decided that the details of her plan weren’t really important for me to know. I wished her a good rest of the work day and told her that I’d probably see her again next month. I doubt she’ll remember me, but one never really knows now, does one?

So we finally arrived at Centraal Station, Amsterdam! Sweet… I figured it would be best if I first went and checked into my hotel, so I headed down to the Sofitel Hotel. It was a rather short walk from Centraal Station and was very easy to find. (That was cool because I was pretty sure that I might be having some difficulties a bit later in trying to find places…) On the way down to the hotel, I noticed this shop across the street that just said, “Art and Smart Shop.” (Okay, I may have mentioned this before, but for any newcomers to this blog – a “smart shop” is a shop that sells various forms of drug paraphernalia and other interesting items – shrooms, cacti, peyote, sexual stimulants … you know, stuff like that.) I made a mental note of this (I was planning on stopping by a bit later) and continued walking to my hotel.

The hotel was actually very nice – a hell of a lot nicer than I needed. But that’s just the way it is with Amsterdam - if you don’t book your hotel something crazy like 4 months or more in advance you are most likely only going to be able to find hotels with vacancies that are the more expensive places. I booked this hotel a month earlier and this was the cheapest I could find for the one night I was planning on being there. Last time I was in Amsterdam I was able to find a room for €75 – this time I was paying €180. Oh well, I didn’t care … it’s not about the hotel in Amsterdam…

So I check in, drop some crap off in my room and head out on the town. The only real plan I had was to definitely make a stop in the red light district later; other than that, I was just playing it by ear. I decide to kick things off by checking out the “Art and Smart Shop” that I passed on the way down here; so I head on up the street to the shop.

It was a rather quaint little shop that was selling many kinds of pipes and bongs and various herbs and “magic” potions and the like - however I didn’t see any shrooms for sale right away. It wasn’t until the extremely friendly girl that was working there came over to see if she could help me that I was made aware of the shrooms. They had a wide variety for sale and I purchased 20g of the Hawaiian shrooms along with this interesting pipe that had a ceramic face of a mushroom all wigged out on it. (And yes, I did say 20g, as in grams… I thought this was rather strange as I distinctly remember being told over at Conscious Dreams the last time that I was here that their shrooms were sold in quantities varying from something like 0.8g to 1.3g. Anyway, it’s not important, but I was wondering a bit…) I left the shop and headed over to this coffee shop that I was at last time – the Stone’s Cafe. It was a bit crowded in there so I walked up the street a ways and entered the Coffee Shop 36 and got myself some weed. I decided to stay there and eat the shrooms and smoke some dope. So I headed down to the “chill” area and grabbed a seat on the couch.

This rather cute girl came and sat near me for a bit – which was cool… She wasn’t much of a talker, but we were able to talk a bit. Of course her boyfriend came shortly after and sat next to her. That’s cool … maybe that explains her quietness a bit? I didn’t care either way I then started to fire up a conversation with him as well. This actually brings up an interesting observation that I’ve made over the years. Why is it that when couples are traveling together they seem to be apt to close themselves off from the rest of the world in a way…? I mean yeah, they’re perhaps enjoying each other so much that the rest of the world doesn’t matter; but that’s not the impression that I usually get. More often than not it appears to me that being in this duo role with their lover (I can only assume) has actually sucked some life out of them. I mean, it’s kinda like for some of these people it’s pretty much “game over”. I guess they might be too afraid to do something that would upset their significant other but come on man, live a little! I mean there have been countless times where I’ve run into these zombie couples. Is that what we (as humans) are supposed to be looking for? I seriously think not… But I digress – back to the story…

So as I was sitting there and trying to have a conversation, I ate the shrooms that I bought and smoked a little weed. I was feeling pretty good… When the seats at the window overlooking the ferry docks became available I moved over and took a seat. I’m not sure how long I was just sitting there watching the ferry boats arriving and departing (these boat drivers are good – it was almost like watching an extremely well choreographed dance number) when the thought occurred to me that it might be best if I were to head back to the hotel and get a few hours of sleep. I didn’t get much sleep the night before and I was actually feeling very tired. If I was going to do what I pretty much came here to do, I needed to get some sleep. I then decided to head back to the hotel and left the little coffee shop.

Now I knew the way back to the hotel, so I wasn’t worried about getting lost or anything. The funny thing is, after I was walking for a bit, I kinda forgot where I was trying to get to. So I came to a stop and attempted to pull myself together a bit. Okay, so I had been sitting at this coffee shop for a while watching ferry boats. Where was I going now??? Oh yeah, back to the hotel! I look up again and there, about 50 feet in front of me is my hotel entrance. Sweet! I head on in, go up to my room, take out my contacts and try to catch a few winks…

Okay, so if anybody read the previous blog post before this one, you should already be aware that this was where that story actually starts from. If you haven’t read it yet, now would be a good time. I’m going to now pick up the story from where that last one ended…

So I finally got some food to eat at the “wok and walk” joint and then just headed back to the hotel and went to bed. I would mention the time here, but I really don’t remember. All I can say is that it was late (or extremely early, to be more precise…).

The next morning I got up and checked out of the hotel. I don’t remember what time it was but am thinking that it must have been somewhere around 9:00am. It was the same situation as the last time I was in Amsterdam in that I had a train to catch at a bit past 3:00pm. Bottom line was that I had some time to kill.

I decided to make my way over toward Conscious Dreams and maybe pick up some more shrooms however, when I got there, I discovered that they hadn’t opened yet. The sign said that they opened at 10:00 and it was still something like 15 to 10 at the time. I figured I would head back down to the Stone’s Cafe and get myself a Coke and a brownie. I was also able to get a shot of the dude that works there – cool guy … very friendly and seems to be a happy person. While I was sitting there eating my brownie and drinking my Coke I noticed a bit of commotion outside. There was this dude sitting on this bench that was just completely stoned or baked or something … he was just sitting there motionless while his buddy was trying anything to get the guy coherent once again. I mean he was yelling at him, shaking him, slapping him … all to no avail. A shop owner behind the guy came out and poured water over his head and this had little effect. In time, however, the guy did come to. It was just a rather interesting show to see…

Shortly after this I headed back up the street to Conscious Dreams and bought myself a box each of the tree variety of shrooms that they were selling dried. (Apparently dried shrooms are superior to fresh shrooms. Why, exactly this is I do not know … but I’m most definitely not a fan of eating fresh mushrooms so I make sure to get the dried shrooms…) I bought a box each of the Golden Teacher, the Hawaiian and the azurescens shrooms and headed back down to Coffee Shop 36 to sit and watch the ferry boats for a while…

Okay, so the one thing that I was most definitely not doing this time was missing my train back. It was scheduled to leave slightly after 3:00pm so I left Coffee Shop 36 at a little before 1:00 thinking that I would be able to get something to eat and then head over to Centraal Station. I never stopped to get anything to eat though and just decided to head to the train station. Once there I discovered that my train was leaving from 11a (again … not 11b) and found a place to sit. I decided to eat the Golden Teacher shrooms and wait for the train.

The “traveling through Europe while sitting still” experience returned again; however it wasn’t quite as noticeable this time as I was actually sitting outside of the main station structure. There were far less people that actually decided to walk out here. But it was cool … I was able to get some shots of the various trains seen there and just kinda chill out and wait for my train. Strangely enough I was able to get over my uncontrollable giggling whenever I heard the female PA announcements … and they were even repeating them in English this time.

My train arrived when scheduled and I was able to get on and claim a seat in the Bistro car. It was here that I continued to take notes. I only jotted down about one page of notes on the trip up. I wrote seven more pages on the trip back.

What that means, of course, is that I’m going to have to finish this story at a later time. It’s already far longer than I was expecting and I have barely used any of my notes yet. I took a lot of notes… I shall leave you now and bid you adieu. I’m thinking that my next posting might be interesting…

bis spatter,

Coriolis

One Night in Amsterdam

So I took another little trip back to Amsterdam over the last weekend. Left Braunschweig at 9:51 am on Saturday and arrived back in Braunschweig sometime around 8:30 pm on Sunday. One night in Amsterdam … most definitely worth the trip!

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – because it bears repeating – if you’ve never been to Amsterdam, go!! Perhaps this is only my personal opinion, but that city is about as close to perfect as you can get … assuming you’re open enough with yourself to actually be ready to play with some vices. I recently saw this presentation that was posted over on Annika’s blog (it’s the one titled “Motivation!”) that was basically stating that you need to be able to break the rules and scare yourself if you want to have fun. I couldn’t agree more. So, for all of you out there that have been programmed by society to think that the sex and drugs that are so readily available in Amsterdam really should be avoided, take a chance and frighten yourself a bit. Once you go I am sure you’ll be thanking me for the advice…

As I said, I went back there myself over the weekend. I’ve been there once before and had a pretty good time – I learned quite a bit on that first trip that I would be able to use on this second trip. I also decided to take notes this time. I said that I was going to bring my laptop PC with me to write a blog entry while still in the effects of the city (and possibly the effects of some other substances) however decided that lugging my computer around (my notebook machine is actually rather large and heavy … it’s a desktop replacement rather than a notebook designed for portability…) would end up being too much of a bother. I decided to take a small notebook and a pencil. I now have 8 pages of notes…

The funny thing is that this posting isn’t going to cover any of that. You see, one note that I jotted down was that I really should post this experience in two separate postings – one that covers all the experiences that I was taking notes on and one that covers the time that I wasn’t taking notes. This posting is the latter of the two. You should soon see why I thought this idea was a good one…

How I actually got to the point in time where I abandoned my note taking (and even left my camera in the hotel) will be described in the other posting. This posting begins with my decision to head on over to the red light district…

**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!!! Okay, you know how the drill works – I’m going to be speaking openly about a subject that many people believe should not be discussed openly – sex. Also, since this blog is “no holds barred”, I will not be pulling any punches. If you feel that there is even the slightest possibility that you might get offended by something you are about to read (and believe me, you will…) then please don’t read this posting! I would also like to ask anyone that is not mature enough to handle what I will be talking about to also please stop reading this post now. I would try to set up some kind of age verification system for these posts, but I’m not making any money off of this stuff and really don’t want to have to use any money to guarantee that I remain free to write what I want. I’m just going to write it and leave it up to the reader on whether or not they want to read it. Besides, if anyone is looking for sexually explicit material there are thousands of other sites they could visit for free that are far worse than this one… So, with all that being said, I needed to get some pussy…

So I decided that sleep was out of the question. I just couldn’t do it. Oh I tried, but after spending a couple hours lying in the bed talking to myself (Yeah, this was interesting … the shrooms were in full effect and I was lying there holding a conversation with myself that was getting periodically interrupted by me asking the question, “Who … the fuck … am I talking to?!?” – out loud, mind you… If only I could have recorded that extremely one sided conversation … I would actually be very interested in hearing what I was discussing with myself as I now remember very little – just that question that I kept repeating over and over…) I decided that I might as well get up and get myself some pussy. I was, after all, in Amsterdam…

I climbed out of bed and started taking inventory on what, exactly, I needed to bring with me for the upcoming adventure. The notebook and pencil were definitely out – I mean how awkward would that be? Besides, I was pretty much planning on being on my feet and walking most of the time anyway. I wouldn’t be able to take notes while I was walking around. For the times that I wasn’t walking, I was planning on being preoccupied with something else. No, there was no reason to bring the notebook.

I also figured that the camera was unneeded as I have a hell of a time trying to take night pictures with my camera – quite a few I took on the last trip didn’t come out so well. Not to mention that cameras weren’t very welcome where I was headed. So the camera can stay behind… I came to the conclusion that all I needed was to get dressed, grab my wallet, passport (you never know…), pipe and remaining weed then head on out. This is exactly what I did.

The bad part about this decision (and I wouldn’t even fully come to the realization about this until much later at the ‘wok and walk’ restaurant…) was that I did not take a shower or even put in my contacts. The shower thing was really no big deal (it’s not like I smelled bad or anything…) but my hair was a bit messed up from my attempt at sleep. If I wasn’t in such a rush to get out there and perhaps in a clearer state of mind, I most definitively would have donned the baseball cap that I brought. I was in a rush, however … and I was on shrooms…

The more interesting item that I forgot was my contacts. Funny thing is that I have always actually needed either glasses or contacts – mainly for my right eye only. My left eye has always been very near 20/20 vision; however I do have rather severe near-sightedness in my right eye. Always have … although I have only been wearing corrective lenses since I was something like 24 years old. You see, the Florida DMV wouldn’t renew my driver’s license unless I got glasses. I never had a problem with this in Michigan – I would always explain to them that it was only my right eye and they would give me the license renewal … Florida was different. I was forced to start wearing glasses there. I have since switched to contact lenses and am actually much happier with them. The only thing is that you need to wear them…

Anyway, back to the story… So I head on out to the red light district. Exactly where I was going was a complete unknown – I was just going. The streets (as is usually the case on a Saturday night in Amsterdam) were packed with people. I didn’t, however, let this distract me as I was on a mission. I did, however, seem to have amplified senses in a way and was able to make out comments from passers by that I usually wouldn’t have noticed. I remember as I was heading into the actual red light district this guy walking by me calling me a pervert. Perhaps I imagined that as he was actually walking out of the red light district which leads me to question what he was doing in there…? Maybe it was the shrooms… Later this night as I was once again heading back into the red light district I distinctly heard some guy say, “Now he knows exactly what he wants.” I thought he may have been talking about me as I was pretty sure that I had a rather goal oriented expression on my face at the time but who knows? He could have just been in the middle of some other conversation and I just heard those words. And remember, I was on shrooms, so that might also have a lot to do with it…

Distractions aside, I was here on a mission. I needed to get myself a lady. As many of you are most definitely aware, I’ve actually acquired quite a bit of experience in the red light districts over here in Europe. I was determined to put that experience to some good use this evening. I came across this extremely attractive young lady that was standing in one of the multitude of little rooms lit up in red light. I approached her to have a word…

Just let me go off on another side point here and explain to you the differences between the red light district in Braunschweig and the red light district in Amsterdam. First off, Amsterdam’s is much larger! The Braunschweig RLD is actually little more than this one street, one city block long, tucked out of site to the general public. The RLD in Amsterdam is a whole series of streets and alleyways mainly centered around two of the canals but extending throughout many parts of the city. The only separation that it has from the other parts of the city are these little cement posts that have lights in them that are green during the day and turn red at night. There is no attempt to hide this section of the city as this would actually be no more than an exercise in futility – the place is huge…

One result of this drastic difference in sizes is that, in Amsterdam, you can basically find whatever you’re looking for. You’re much more limited with selection in Braunschweig and actually finding a keeper (Bine, for example) is more of a game of luck. In Amsterdam however, you can pretty much find whatever you’re looking for. You want the innocent looking young schoolgirl type? – she’s there. You want the blonde, silicone filled, Barbi porn star? – she’s there. Looking for some S&M (chains, whips, chicks, dicks)? – it’s there. Heck, if you want the older, been around the block a few too many times woman I’m sure you could find a match. It’s most definitely a buyer’s market…

This lady that I was now discussing business with was my type. She was young, thin (but not too thin…) and looked to be the innocent girl gone wrong. I was very much attracted. The discussion we had was basically the standard discussion. I was trying to find out how much she was going to cost me while trying to get everything I wanted without spending too much. She was at work. This means that all she was interested in was the money and trying to get as much as she could from me. Now I’m not saying that because I was surprised by this – this is exactly what I was expecting. It was now time for me to put my experience to work.

An explanation is necessary here. There are certain things in this world that I happen to be extremely fond of. Number one on that list is pussy. I mean I love pussy. I love the way a well maintained pussy looks, feels, tastes and smells. You can call me a pervert if you want – I really don’t care. I know what I like and I know what I need in order to have a successful sexual experience. I need to be able to have very intimate contact with the woman’s genitalia. The thing is that this can become very expensive with a prostitute. It’s actually one of the two things that are often considered taboo. The truth of the matter is (assuming that you’re well groomed and present yourself well) that it is often times obtainable. Unfortunately it is an opportunity for many of the women to demand more money. There’s nothing quite as easy as taking advantage of a man who has just recently started making decisions with the wrong head…

I actually don’t really understand this. I mean sure, the women are only in this thing for the money, but why are they preventing customers from performing something that they, the prostitutes, might actually enjoy? I, for one, must say that I take quite a bit of pride in my skills. I’ve actually been complemented on my technique by a few women – and that was after the fact so there was really no reason for them to be lying. I do know that I have successfully brought women to orgasm on several occasions using nothing more than my mouth. What can I say? I’m a giver… I suppose the reluctance to allow this could be related to avoiding VD; but then why would they give in if the money actually gets paid? It’s most definitely all about the money.

So, back to the story… The woman tells me €50. Now I know that this is bullshit. Yeah, you can get serviced for €50; but I know that it won’t get me what I need. So I ask her exactly what I would be getting for €50 and am given the old “anything you want” lie. But I know this is a lie; I’ve been down this road before. I asked her directly if that would include 69 (no explanation needed, I’m assuming…) to which she agreed. Okay, cool. I pay the €50 and inform the woman that she could get more afterward if I thought the service was deserving of more. Seemed clear enough to me – if she worked well enough to deserve a tip I would most definitely give her one… Besides, she already agreed to the 69.

Now I don’t completely remember what exactly happened with this lady, but I definitely recall her asking for more money when I requested what I was told I would be getting – you know, the 69 … try to keep up now… It was then that I came right out and scolded her for lying straight to my face. She even tried to play it off like she didn’t know what 69 was even referring to. My response to this was something like, “Give me a break. I know what you do for a living. You know what you do for a living. If you honestly think that I believe you don’t know what 69 is than you really must think I’m stupid. You lied to me.” She just giggled about this a bit and continued to try to extract more money from me. I once again explained to her what the deal was with a tip but she was determined not to give in. Oh well, whatever, I figured I would try to enjoy the experience anyway.

After the blowjob, several positions of intercourse and a handjob later I realized that it wasn’t gonna happen. Now here’s another interesting thing about prostitutes that I don’t quite understand … they seem to get a bit upset if they aren’t able to get a guy to cum. I don’t know, maybe they take this as an insult to them; but it really isn’t their problem. They’ve already got their money. Once I realize that it ain’t happening, I’m usually pretty eager to get out of there. Hell, the lady should be happy about it – she can return back to the window and get more money from someone else. She’s already got my money so I should actually be the one getting upset. Maybe they’re upset that they weren’t able to do their job correctly or something? I don’t know. I will say this though – this situation wouldn’t come up nearly as much if they were honest to begin with…

That pretty much sums up the remaining time I spent with this first lady of the evening – it wasn’t going to happen, so I left. Oh well, there are plenty more to choose from…

I had two more experiences very close to that first one although the third girl was a bit interesting. We got to that inevitable point where I was attempting to do something that I apparently hadn’t yet paid for. This girl did the old “oh I didn’t know” routine and said something like, “Oh … You want to go down on me…?” Yeah, that’s right, act coy … how much is this going to cost me? €100 more… Whatever! I’m really really getting sick and tired of the fucking money game bullshit! So I give her €100 and, as an added bonus (I guess…?), treat her to some damn good cunnilingus. I got her to orgasm. She was unable to return the favor…

So whatever … I guess it just wasn’t my night. Time to head back to the hotel for the night – this journey took quite a bit longer than I expected…

So I’m walking down these alleyways through the RLD and it’s pretty damn crowded. All along the way women – behind panes of glass in little rooms all lit up in red – are constantly trying to get you to stop for a sample of their sweet meat. I was calling it a night though and really wasn’t interested. That is until…

I glance towards the left and spot this gorgeous little cutie wearing a baseball cap. I mean she looked good! So I walk on over to attempt to have a word or two with her. Now I need to mention that I was completely out of money at this time. I think I had something like €20 in my wallet and that wasn’t going to buy anything. I still felt compelled to go speak with this woman. She motioned for me to walk around to the door and opened it to let me in. But I didn’t go in – I didn’t have any money. Instead I just basically told her that I didn’t have any money on me but I could most definitely get some if she pointed me to a money machine. I asked her how much I should take out, €50? Her reply was that this was the correct figure and that a money machine was just down the alleyway I was walking, across both canals and to the right. Now you and I both know that this is actually NOT the correct figure, but I liked this girl. I told her that I would be seeing her later and began the journey to find a money machine (sound familiar…?)

I did an awful lot of walking but didn’t see any damn money machine. At this café where a bunch of people were eating outside on the patio I basically stopped near the center and said, “Excuse me. Does anybody know where I can find a money machine?” Everybody just ignored me like I wasn’t there (well except for this one lady that said something like, “must be an American”). As I was walking away, I approached this lady that was walking in my direction and asked the same question. She just looked at me like I was nuts and kept on walking – didn’t say a word… I mean come on … what’s with that!?

Oh well, screw it, I think I need to start backtracking a bit. So I turn around and start retracing my steps. I soon notice this coffeehouse that only has two guys sitting in it (one was the bartender and the other was a guy at the bar…). I walk in and ask where the money machine is. The guy sitting at the bar starts cracking up and the bartender walks me out to the door and points to where the money machine can be found. Excellent!! I head to the money machine, withdraw €250, put €150 in my cigarette pack and the other €100 in my wallet then head back to the coffeehouse that was nice enough to point the way for a coke and some weed.

So the dude that was sitting at the bar earlier walks over and sits at the table with me. He was definitely an interesting character. I didn’t find out until later that he was trying to proposition me for sex. When I finally figured it out I had to tell him that I just wasn’t programmed that way. I was way too attracted to the female form and there is just absolutely nothing on a man’s body that does anything more than repulse me. He sure was persistent though … he just wouldn’t give up. Funny thing is, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. I just don’t get it. What is it that these homosexuals see in me that women don’t? I need to find that out…

I basically just finished my coke and headed back out to go find the girl in the baseball cap again. I started to retrace my steps. Up the first street, a left at the first alleyway, walk down to the first canal, cross over it, continue walking to the second canal, cross this one as well, walk on to the first major street then continue on the other side. This, I was pretty sure, was the alley where she was. I walk down it and find the girl in the baseball cap just as she was letting in a customer and pulling the curtains closed. Damn! Oh well, how long can he be? I decide to just go for a bit of a walk and return in a little while. This I do.

When I returned, the curtain was still shut. I took another walk. A couple walks later and I notice that she’s opening her curtain again. I quickly make a bee-line straight toward her window and get asked in.

She actually remembered me from earlier (it was actually a couple hours since then … at least…) and, in some way at least, appeared to be happy to see me again. I walk in and tell her that I know she said €50 earlier but that I was more than aware that this is just foot in the door money. I then proceed to tell her that I am going to give her €100 and asked what that would get me. She said anything I wanted and told me that she was so glad that I wasn’t trying to low-ball her by expecting everything for €50. Apparently that happens quite a bit. I’m beginning to understand exactly how these girls can so easily become callous in this environment… But things were cool, we made a bit of a connection there. I was being honest with her and I think she appreciated it – now let’s see how honest she wants to be with me…

I then explain to her that I’m an old man and the one thing that I really need right about now is honesty. I asked her whether, if we were to have met someplace else (a bar, the supermarket, wherever…) would she even consider going on a date with me. She said, “No.” Cool… She got herself a customer.

Oh yeah, and why I was talking with her in her room, the curtain was still open. I remember this one asshole tapping on her window and telling her to shake her ass – right when I was standing there talking to her. What an asshole! Man, these poor girls go through a lot of shit…

She asked me to close the curtain and I did. She then asked if I smoked and gave me a cigarette. How cool was that? I mean here we were about to have sex that I had just purchased and we sat down and had a cigarette and a little talk beforehand. This chic is cool. And the sex…

She didn’t pull any punches. After I got undressed and laid on the bed she came over and began the blowjob on her hands and knees with her sweet little ass up in the air just to the right of my head. It wasn’t long until she climbed on top of me for some 69. She didn’t ask for any more money and I was free to explore her sweet little 25 year old body as much as I wanted. And get this … she even kissed me on the lips a couple of times. Now this is the biggest taboo in this industry – no matter what, you never let the Johns kiss you mouth-to-mouth. I guess it’s just too personal … but the girl in the baseball cap was kissing me. This, my friends, was some good sex. I really don’t know how long I was with her but I know I heard the door of the next room open and close at least three times; but it didn’t matter – the girl in the baseball cap (well, the cap was gone now) seemed to be having a good time. Not once did she make any reference to the time nor ask me for any more money. She also finally got me off and I even gave her an extra €10 for the effort – she was shocked by this… I’m most definitely seeing her again next month!

I left and started walking back to the hotel but decided to pop into this place called “wok and walk” where I ate this rather good pork and pineapple wok dish. It was here that I noticed that I couldn’t see anything with my right eye and figured out that I had forgotten to put in my contacts. Oh well, no harm no foul…

Money spent on the trip – something like €500. Was it worth it? To meet the girl in the baseball cap (man, I wish I remembered her name…), hell yeah!

bis später,

Coriolis

What is this?

I’ve pretty much been noticing something interesting with visitors on my blog – many of them only read the latest posting. Looking at the layout I also completely understand why that is – I mean who wants to click on the previous postings and take their chances at it being something interesting…?

I’ve decided to help out new visitors and create this map page of what I actually have posted. I don’t really know how much this will help (this is really nothing more than reposting what’s already available on the left of your screen – grouped and in chronological order though…) but I’m willing to give it a try…

My accounts of living in Europe are as follows:

The Germany Experience (from an American)
Amsterdam ... what a city... (part 1)
Amsterdam (part 2)
Amsterdam (Centraal Station - part 3)
Amsterdam (the trip back ... part 4)
Berlin - you need more than 8 hours...
Magnifest 2006 - Who knew...? (part 1)
Magnifest??? (part 2)
Laundry ... it ain't that easy...
You don't want to be me...

What started off as a quick little introduction and ended up becoming a rather detailed autobiography:

Let me introduce myself (the early years)...
The College Years
My Life Story - Sandy (Part 3)
The story continues - Karen (part 4)
The Wrong Job
Was it all a lie...?
Much Needed Explanation
To the present...
A Man and His Cars
The Conny Story

Of course a large majority of my visitors are pretty much the same group making return visits – and I thank you for that! I realize that this posting isn’t really going to be that helpful to people that have been reading from the beginning; although I am actually hoping that I might entice some of the random hits that come here to give the novel a read from the beginning. I think it’s much more enjoyable that way…

Having said all that I will say that this is the last time I’m doing this! It’s too much work and I doubt it will have any noticeable effect… I’ve just spent quite a bit of time writing this up and I’m beginning to wonder if that time was wasted…

bis später,

Coriolis

The Conny Story

Well, it was requested, so I guess I'm obliged to write it - The Conny Story. Now please bear in mind that this was a couple decades ago, so my recollection of all the details might be a bit on the fuzzy side. I will, however, do my best to basically sum up the story of the one, and only, true love I've had in my pathetic little life thus far. The weird thing about this is that I know she's going to be reading this and many would think that that would have a negative impact to my candidness; but if you've read the rest of my blogs, I think that you should know me better than that... So, without further ado, here is the story about my love, Conny.

The mists over the sea were unusually heavy that morning ... any attempts to even try to visualize the boats returning from the night's trolling were futile. Sure, perhaps you would see the flash of light from one of the spotlights that all of the vessels were equipped with, but actually discerning one ship from another was impossible.

You see, that's the way stories like this are supposed to start. However reality is usually much simpler ... and far less poetic...

The year was 1986. I was beginning my junior year at Melvindale High School and pretty much expected this year to be another repeat of the, what seemed like, countless years that I had been attending school before this. I mean, my group of friends had basically been the same since forever and I actually had no indication that this was going to change. Why would it? I had figured out where I stood in the social pecking order of our suburban high school and, due to who I was and how I behaved, I really didn't think anything would ever change.

You see, I was one of those "smart" kids - not actually the nerd type that got the wedgies and swirlies from the school jocks; however, if somebody was planning on setting up a party or something, I was not their first choice for assistance. Don't get me wrong about this ... I wasn't a complete recluse or anything, I just wasn't in the 'it' crowd. My high school experience was much more akin to "Freaks and Geeks" rather than "Beverly Hills 90210". (By the way, if you've never seen the TV show "Freaks and Geeks" I highly recommend that you rent the DVDs and check it out...)

The reason that I'm explaining this in so much detail is that I need you to understand that I was most definitely not a hot item when it came to the ladies. Well, at least I didn't think I was ... once again, my low self esteem issue bares its ugly head. Now don't get me wrong, I was an adolescent male that had recently gone through puberty (well, not that recently, but you get the point...) and I will admit that I was very much attracted to the opposite sex - I just did a very good job of keeping these attractions to myself. Heck, there was this one girl, Shannon that I had the biggest crush on since I first saw her in band class in 7th grade. I'm pretty sure that she never knew...

This was, as I said, my junior year. The great thing about junior year was that you, and your friends, were now old enough to drive. This of course meant that we were finally getting our first taste of freedom and we bit into this freedom hard. At least with my group of friends, the standard thing to do on just about every weekend night was to drive around. We never had any place that we were actually going; we were just driving around, listening to what is now referred to as classic rock and basically enjoying the fact that we could go anywhere (as long as we were home by curfew, that is...).

It was around this time that I (well, Eric and I) started hanging out with Sal. Sal, strangely enough, was at first one of my brother's friends. He was actually a senior but for reasons that I don't quite remember, he seemed to be cool with hanging out with me and Eric. On these weekend nights, it was always Sal that was doing the driving - you see Sal had his own car. He would come by on the weekends and pick Eric and me up and we would just hang out, driving nowhere. As I recall, it was cool...

Now, unbeknownst to me, Sal apparently had a rather big crush on a girl that was in our junior class. The girl's name was Conny - actually Cornelia, I think – but she was always known as Conny. As I said, I was barely aware of this crush - or at least I didn't really care ... although I think Sal may have mentioned it to me once... Heck, I didn't even know who this Conny was...

I don't actually recall what class it was – I think it was social studies – but a fellow student in this class was Conny – the one that Sal was apparently 'ga ga' over. She sat either in the front row or a row very near to the right of where I was sitting near the back of the class. How I remember this, I really couldn't tell you; but I do. I never even met this girl - which seems a bit strange as we were attending the same schools in the same class since 7th grade - I think... I believe it was Eric that pointed her out to me and informed me that she was the girl that Sal liked. "Really?" I thought...

Now here's an interesting observation, I don't know where or when Sal fell for this girl - he was a senior after all... I seem to have a recollection of being told something about them meeting over summer break or something; however this could be a false memory. The main point here was that Sal was apparently crushing hard...

One weekend came up where Eric informed me that others would be joining us on our nightly drive. He said it was going to be Conny, Carol and - man, this is bad - some third girl who's name I forget. It might have been like a Nicole or a Stacy ... I don't remember. I don't know how this got arranged or even who arranged it, but there were apparently going to be three girls hanging out with us that night. Now I kind of knew Carol as she used to date my buddy Jeff back in junior high; as for the other two, they were unknowns to me. Oh well, that's cool. The car'll be a bit crowded but I figured it could be fun...

We basically go out and do what we always do – nothing – this time, with more people in the car. If I remember correctly, everyone seemed to have a good time because this basically became my new crowd. Whenever we went out driving around, these were the people that were there.

It's funny because I know that I couldn't have been that much fun to hang around. I was actually starting to fall rather heavily for Conny - but Conny was off limits. Sal had already staked his claim on her. It didn't matter though ... I couldn't control my feelings and I now saw what Sal must have seen whenever it was that he fell for her. This, of course, made me go into my standard mode of making sure nobody else knew what I felt and I'm sure I couldn't have been too much fun... I mean when the times would come up where I would be sitting next to Conny in the back seat, I'm pretty sure that I would clam up and not add much to any conversation. You have to remember that, primarily due to my self esteem issue; I'm not good around women that I am attracted to...

Over time, however - and it couldn't have been that long now that I think about it - I started to get the impression that Conny might be a bit attracted to me as well. I really can't tell you exactly how or why I got this impression - there was just something different when I was around Conny. It was more of a feeling than anything that could be explained, however it felt pretty strong. The main question was what I was going to do about this. If the past is any indication of the future, I was pretty sure that I would do nothing; however fate works in mysterious ways...

This one night came where we actually had two cars out driving around. I don't recall why, but I believe Sal was driving his car, as usual, and I was driving my parent's car. Perhaps there were more people this time, I really don't remember. I do, however, remember that Conny was in Sal's car. I don't know who, if anybody for that matter was in mine; but Conny was in Sal's car. I remember that we made a stop somewhere (seems like it was just on some side street somewhere) and I was informed that Conny wasn't feeling good. I then offered to drive Conny home while everybody else took off in Sal's car.

There we were, Conny and I, alone in my car. She had claimed to not be feeling well and I was supposed to be driving her home. The funny thing is that she seemed to be feeling pretty well as I began driving her home. Did she fake an illness to arrange it so that she would get moved to my car? I don't know ... and I doubt she even remembers this... I just knew that I was to be driving her home.

Now, the time of year that all this was occurring was just before the homecoming dance. Did I plan on attending the dance? Not really ... I never went to school dances. I never had the nerve to ask anyone to go with me... However, as I was driving Conny home this evening, I did the unthinkable (well, to me at least) and asked her if she wanted to go to the dance with me. I was nervous ... so nervous, in fact, that I missed the turn onto her street and was forced to turn around in the Melvindale Ice Arena parking lot to get back. Amazingly enough, she said yes. She said yes!

I dropped her off at her house and drove myself home. I had a smile on my face that reached ear to ear. I was going to the homecoming dance with Conny. Suddenly the fact that Sal had staked his claim on her meant nothing to me. Those intuitions that I was getting whenever I was around Conny were real - she actually did like me. She said yes!

Now here's another part that I don't really remember how it came to be; but we actually went to the homecoming dance as a foursome - me, Conny, Carol and Sal. Sal took Carol to that dance. I don't know if he might have asked Conny earlier and been turned down or what the situation exactly was, but Sal took Carol to the '86 MHS Homecoming Dance. This is strange to me as Carol actually later got together with Eric and became an item... Oh well, I guess Sal just has bad luck with women ... and I thought it was only me...

I'm sure the dance was fun and all, but I actually remember none of it. I do, however, remember afterward, at Conny's house. I walked her to her side door, well, actually to the gate that lead to her side door. It was one of those driveway gates, you know, the long gate that could be opened or closed on a driveway rather than a walkway. Anyway, I walked her up to her gate and she went though. It wasn't until she was actually standing on the other side of the gate that I finally got up the nerve to kiss her. I remember that kiss. I mean, we kissed an awful lot after that, but that kiss I will always remember. It was then that I asked her to 'go with me'. (Do kids still do that?) She said yes again and we were then official 'boyfriend and girlfriend'. That's just the way it was back then ... you weren't 'official' until you were 'going together'.

My junior year in high school was perhaps the happiest time of my life. Everything that I did, I did with Conny; and I was happy. As I mentioned earlier, Eric and Carol also became a couple and poor Sal just stayed Sal – which was sad because Sal’s a good guy.

You've got to remember that we were just kids and although our main activities were just trying to find time and places to make out, it was fun. I remember parking in an empty parking lot at the Henry Ford Museum and going to at least a few drive ins. (Drive ins, for all you young kids were movie theaters where you watched the movie sitting in your car ... although usually very little of the movie - movies, actually, they were always double features - was actually watched...) Yeah, those were fun times...

Unfortunately, nothing that good lasts forever... You see, Conny was German. (I mentioned this before in an earlier blog...) Every summer she would head back to Germany and, I'm pretty sure, live with relatives. She did this again at the end of our junior year and I was then forced to spend my entire summer vacation without her. That's actually one thing that I never quite understood about Conny. I truly believed that she did love me; however, no matter how hard I tried, she always loved Germany more. So, rather than spending the summer with me, she headed back to Germany. Oh well, what could I do? I loved her far too much to even attempt to have her skip this trip to Germany. I knew this was important to her and I figured that I could survive the time apart. True love never dies, right?

Wrong. I don't know what exactly happened while she was over in Germany; but when she returned at the end of the summer it was more than apparent that she was not the least bit happy to see me. Unfortunately, before I was able to find out what the problem was, I got myself into a little fender bender that knocked me out of commission for a decent amount of time. (Yes, this was the accident that I wrote about earlier...)

As I mentioned before, Conny stayed with me throughout the hospital and rehab ... it wasn't until I returned to school that she finally got around to dumping me. I was thinking that it was most likely due to the effects that the closed head injury had on me (and perhaps that had an impact as well); however, now that I write this story out, I see that all the signs were there even before the accident. Yeah, Conny had decided that I wasn't going to be in her future while she was in Germany that summer. Why? I don't know... Will I ever? I doubt it.

Conny breaking up with me isn't the end of this story, however. We actually got back together later in the senior year and I took her to the senior prom. Although she did take a trip to Myrtle Beach with a few of her friends and made it clearly known that she didn't want me coming along - this never sat well with me... But after graduation, that was it – it was over. I believe she moved back to Germany - perhaps that summer, I really don't know - and I headed off to college. This chapter of my life was over...

Or so I thought...

One day, while I was sitting in my room at the frat house, I decided to give Conny's mother a call. For the life of me, I have no idea why. I don't remember. I'm sure it was somehow tied to some desperate attempt to possibly re-find Conny, but that might have been subconscious. All I know is that I was calling Conny's mother but the woman that answered the phone definitely didn't sound like Conny's mom. No, in fact, it sounded like Conny - and it was Conny. You can imagine my surprise... I have no idea what was said or how I was even able to pull this off, but I somehow managed to set up a date (no, not the romantic kind ... at least I didn't think so at the time) to take her, Eric and Sarah (I think it was Sarah...) out to Greek Town for dinner. This I did and we all returned back to my room at the frat house afterwards.

The tension was so thick; you could cut it with a knife. I didn't really understand this as I was under the impression that we were just out catching up on old times. I’m pretty sure that I now know why the tension was so high as I now believe that Conny may have wanted me. I know I wanted her, but I guess I'm just too much of a toad...

The next day I actually drove to Conny's house and had a rather surreal experience. As I entered the house, Dave (her stepfather) instructed me that she was up in her room and that I could just head on up. This seemed funny to me as I remembered when I was dating her in high school how her room was completely off limits to me. I show up now and the authority figure that made sure I stayed out of that room in the past was now giving me the green flag to head on up. I climbed up the stairs and met with Conny in her room.

Now you've got to realize a couple things here. First off, Conny was heading back to Germany in a couple of days where she was now living. Secondly, I still loved this woman. We had a little talk up in her room that evening and I must have said something wrong because, after being there for a rather short period of time, Conny asked me to leave. I had already made plans with her (well, not exactly plans … but I thought that we had decided) to take her out to dinner the next day and I figured I might as well leave and we could discuss what the issue was the next day. I think I may have mentioned that I still loved her or something to that effect and it might have been a bit too much … too quickly – but she was leaving in two days!! I descended the stairs and left the house. I was going to get her back if it was the last thing I ever did. This dinner I was taking her out to had to be special...

I started the next day off early. I called the Whitney and made reservations for dinner that evening, headed out and got a dozen roses (I think they were roses) and a good box of chocolates and then began to wait for Conny to call. She told me that she would be calling me that day and I believed her, so I began my wait.

Time was slowly passing and the phone remained silent. Finally, sometime in the early afternoon, the phone rang. I quickly answered assuming that it was Conny, but it wasn't Conny. No, the name of the girl on the other end of the line was Rachel. Okay, so I need to explain this a bit... Rachel was this girl that I had met in college. We had a small fling together and, as flings go in college, had had sex on a few occasions. I hadn't actually spoken to Rachel in quite some time; however this was not the time to be tying up my line. I told Rachel that I was expecting a call and needed to be going. Of course this wasn't good enough for her as she wanted to know why. Like a fool, I told her that I was expecting a call from Conny (believe me, she knew who Conny was, never actually met her, but she knew...) and that I needed to keep the line free. Now this part amazes me - she asked me for Conny's number AND I GAVE IT TO HER!!! WHY?!?!? The next sound I heard was the click of Rachel hanging up.

I mean, I've done some stupid things in my life, but this has got to be by far the stupidest. In my defense, I have to say that I probably would have told Rachel anything to get my line free again ... hell, that's actually what I did. But I gave Rachel Conny's phone number! Oh my god, nothing good can come from this...

I quickly called back Rachel to tell her to destroy that number and NOT call Conny. Unfortunately, the line was busy. Oh no... I then called Conny and guess what ... the line was busy... Shit! Now I've done it... What would Rachel be saying to Conny? Why would Rachel even want to talk to Conny? As I was contemplating these questions I figured that I probably didn't want to know the answers...

A short time later, I called Conny's number again. Her mother answered the phone. All she said was, "Never call here again." She didn't sound happy.

I then grabbed the flowers and candy and drove over to Conny's house. Dave answered the door and told me that Conny wasn't there. I think she was, but I had just done a pretty stupid thing and figured there was no getting out of this one. I gave the flowers and candy to Dave with the instructions to make sure that Conny got them, went home and cried myself to sleep.

Yeah ... this time I really fucked up. This was the end. Conny went back to Germany and actually sent me a letter saying that that was a dumb thing to do. Of course I already knew that. She wasn't telling me anything new with that letter. I wrote back explaining that it was all a very stupid mistake but expected no reply. I got no reply.

Conny went back to Germany. I was now completely out of the picture. She ended up meeting an American soldier in Germany and is actually now living in California with a couple kids. How do I know this? She told me. You see, there are just some ghosts in a person’s closet that never seem to go away. Since this horrific episode, Conny and I have attempted to ‘touch base’ a couple of times through emails. The first couple attempts didn't go well at all ... I think they had a lifespan of about three messages back and forth before I would eventually say something that would remind her of exactly why we never ended up together and she would basically tell me to 'get bent' and that would be the end. This last attempt, however, seems to have worked much better. Although she will be reading this, so who knows...? I just hope that I didn't say anything that will upset her ... that most definitely was not my intent.

Well, I doubt this was very interesting for most of you; however Todd requested it. Therefore if you have any problems, steer your anger his way. This story is a bit personal for me, so I really don't see how it would be very interesting to an outsider. Never fret, however, as I have booked two more trips to Amsterdam with trips to Athens, Zürich and Paris in between. The next five weekends should be interesting… I'm sure my blogs will become more interesting again in the near future.

bis später,

Coriolis

A Man and His Cars

It’s a bit past 3:00 in the morning. I was happily snoozing away but was awoken by my alarm clock. No, I didn’t set it to wake me up at 3:00. The thing is that my alarm clock is actually my cell phone (or ‘mobile’ as it’s known over here in Europe…). What woke me was that I received an SMS (text message). It was Jon. He’s currently in Vienna partying with a bunch of DJs that he knew from seeing back in Miami a while back. Sounds (or reads) like he’s having a good time. Why he really thought I needed to be informed about this at 3:00 in the morning is beyond me, but that’s cool. Party on my man!

Since I actually went to bed very early last night I figured this unexpected early rise might be a good opportunity for me to add a bit to my blog. The only thing is that I really don’t know what to write about. Oh, I know, I’ll tell you guys about my automobile history. After all, I am a guy … guys are supposed to talk about chicks and cars, right? I’ve already talked about a few chicks. This posting will be about cars.

I grew up in a suburb of Detroit – the Motor City. Of course the “Motor City” moniker is really more of a leftover from a better time for the city. The American auto makers are most definitely not the power that they once were. The impression that I get in Colorado is that buying an American car (of course no cars are actually made in America these days … at least not completely…) is akin to buying the generic brands in the grocery store. It’s like buying the box that just says “Aluminum Wrap” rather than the more elaborately labeled “Reynolds Wrap” aluminum foil. You get something that usually serves the purpose but the quality is often questionable. Over here in Germany … forget about it. I think I’ve seen maybe two American cars. But I digress…

When I was growing up, however, the Motor City still actually meant something and cars were rather important to the male psyche. To be one of the cool guys you needed to have a cool car … and a cool car was one that had enough horsepower to supply several small cities. It really didn’t matter how the car looked as much as how the car performed. Bondo on the body was just war wounds…

Although I never had a cool car when I was younger, this image of what a “cool” car was has always stuck with me. After all we are, as adults, merely culminations of childhood ideals. My idea of a nice car these days is still focused primarily on power and performance. As far as I’m concerned, the pickups and SUVs that seem to have become so popular are toys for rednecks and really don’t interest me in the least. I want to be able to step on the gas and move – quickly! I really could care less that somebody’s SUV lets them carry an entire soccer team to the field, I’ll just be showing up alone (or maybe with one other friend). And this whole off-road concept seems stupid to me – all the roads I drive on are paved. Seems to me that all the roads these people that buy these off-road SUV behemoths drive on are paved as well…

The thing is that, as far as cars were concerned, I had absolutely no knowledge when it came to working on them. How one would swap out a carburetor or bore out the cylinders was all unknown to me and it seemed like these were the kind of activities that you would need to have knowledge of if you wanted to keep a more inexpensive car “cherry”. No, I needed to purchase whatever power I was going to get and have somebody else do the grease monkey work for me. This meant, of course, that if I wanted a decent sports car that I would have to pay the premium dollars. I was going to be a highly paid (yeah, right) engineer though, so I wasn’t too worried. Good things come to those that wait, right? I just needed to bide my time and I’d be able to get myself a sweet car in the future…

The first car that I actually ever purchased was a Geo Metro XFi. I bought this with the money I was able to get working at Ticketmaster during college. Okay, so it most definitely wasn’t my idea of a nice car, but I think I got the thing for something like a bit over 9 grand brand new. It packed a whopping 1.0 liter, 3 cylinder engine and came with absolutely no options. No A/C, no automatic transmission (it was actually a 5 speed manual – come to think of it, every car I ever purchased was a stick), no radio, nothing. Oh wait, I believe it did have rear window defrost. It was also sky blue in color – absolute chick magnet!

That car (I named it Shannon because it was so cute … personal reference here…) was actually not too bad. I mean yeah, getting on a highway was always a flirt with death (you basically floored it and hoped for the best) but it got great mileage and it served its purpose of getting me from point A to point B when I needed. I only had that car for something like a year before I decided to trade her in…

I traded Shannon in shortly after starting work at EDS. I think I got something stupid like a grand for the trade-in; but I really didn’t care. I was purchasing my first F-body – a shiny new, bright red Pontiac Firebird Formula. It was a ’94 and was one of the fourth generation F-body’s. The first time I saw one of these was actually a Trans Am that was on display at the GM World Headquarters when I was working there for EDS. It was love at first sight. I mean this car was sweet! They had also just recently packed an LT1 engine (the Corvette engine) into the F-body package and it was rated at 275 hp. I was finally getting myself a car that I could be proud of…

Six months, to the day, after getting the Formula, it was totaled. I was heading over to my buddy, Mike’s apartment and cruising along in the left lane of a standard five lane highway (the middle lane was a turning lane, of course). It was late in the evening and I saw that there was a car in the turning lane – facing me – a little ways ahead. This meant nothing as you’re in this same situation thousands of times without incident. The person turning waits for you to pass and then makes his turn when you are clear. It’s just standard operating procedure. This time wasn’t standard. As I was coming up on the car, the idiot went. I think I had enough time to say “Oh shit” and make a desperate attempt at the brakes. The next thing I remember was a very loud crash sound (you know it – that unique sound that’s created when two very massive objects hit head-on at sufficient speed) and coming to with an airbag in my face. There was a lady standing right outside my side window asking if I was alright. I don’t know how long I was out, but the lady standing outside my window was from the car that I had recently passed just before the accident.

Turns out that the idiot that decided to turn directly into the front of my car, his girlfriend and one other guy were coming from a bar up the road and heading over to Taco Bell for a bit of a snack. This dipshit was drunk! Now, mind you, none of those three were wearing seatbelts and the only one that was able to walk out of the car was the guy in the back seat. The driver was taken away in an ambulance and his girlfriend was rushed to a trauma center in a helicopter.

I actually don’t know if the girlfriend survived the crash. I just hope that the driver got some much needed sense knocked into him. The stupidity of some people is actually amazing at times and it seems to me that they like to flock together in groups. Detroit seems to be a nesting home for many of these groups…

I, amazingly enough, walked away from the accident unscathed. I was wearing my seatbelt, of course; and my car was equipped with airbags. It was also designed to be pretty safe in these situations as the engine actually dropped under the passenger compartment rather than coming in for a much unappreciated visit. American auto makers don’t get much respect these days but I will say that whoever was responsible for the design of that car did something right.

Of course damage like that is beyond repair and my Formula was no more. I was soon able to pick up a replacement vehicle – a ’94 Chevy Camaro Z-28. This one was a dark cherry red as opposed to the bright red of the Formula. Although it didn’t have all the bells and whistles of the Pontiac, it was still basically the same body/performance package. I kinda missed my cool little extras (the pop-up headlights and leather interior – stuff like that…) but the Camaro was a nice car. It was my primary means of transportation for the next 9 years.

About a month after getting the Camaro (which would later be named Christine for reasons that may become apparent…) I drove her into a freeway wall on I-75. The thing is that these cars really didn’t have very good traction control systems in them back in ’94. It had a limited slip differential, but that was more of a power related feature. You really didn’t want to be driving these cars in the snow. They were built for performance – not all weather performance, but brute force performance on your nice summer day. I knew this, but I needed to get home…

I was over at my brother’s place and it began to snow. I figured I could make it home before it got too bad and started my trip from Dearborn Heights back to Sterling Heights where I was currently living. The trip started out okay, but it was one of those Michigan snowstorms that just doesn’t let up. The roads were quickly becoming packed with snow so I stayed in the right lane and slowly proceeded forward trying not to give her too much gas and fishtail out of control. Unfortunately, this is exactly what I did just prior to coming up on my I-375 exit. Luckily there were no other vehicles around (I guess I was one of the stupid ones that was actually out there) as I pressed a bit too hard on the pedal and lost control. I slid across three lanes and smashed into the cement freeway divider at about a 45 degree angle. The damage wasn’t bad enough to make the car un-drivable so I was able to continue on to my apartment. $1,200 later I had the front end damage fixed and Christine was able to get through this ordeal.

Pretty much the exact same incident happened later in Colorado when I was trying to get to the airport for one of my many flights down to Dallas – another unexpected snowstorm and another rather abrupt stop after a bit of a fishtail show. That was the last incident I had with Christine as I traded her in the next spring for Precious…

Now between these two incidents there was one other episode with Christine – it happened probably about six months before my second close encounter with a freeway wall. This one was really a bummer. I was accelerating as I was turning left onto a five lane highway (it’s always those damn five lane highways…) when I heard a very load sound that appeared to be something breaking in the transmission. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good. The power of the car instantly disappeared and there was this constant grinding sound of metal on metal. I coasted her into this bus stop that was close by and had her towed (well, transported … you really can’t tow F-bodies…) to this dealer in Boulder that has a good garage. Ends up that I actually busted the drive shaft in the engine! But this was only at 54k miles or so – these LT1 engines were supposed to be bullet proof. I can’t explain why (bad luck, perhaps…) but I somehow busted the drive shaft on mine at 54k miles…

After having the car transported to another garage for a second opinion, it was clear that the dealer’s garage was correct. I had somehow busted the drive shaft. The problem with this is that the only way to repair it was to get a new engine – and LT1’s aren’t cheap. So, I ended up paying something like 10 grand to put a brand new engine in Christine. In hind sight, that was actually pretty stupid as I traded her in the next spring anyway – I was able to get $8000 for the trade in due to the new engine, but I probably could have saved some money if I had just bought the new car when I killed Christine. Oh well … live and learn…

Oh yeah, there was also this time in Boulder where this ditsy blonde decided to pull out directly into my passenger door. She was driving her boyfriends SUV and merely scratched the front left bumper but forced me to get the entire passenger door replaced. That was all covered by insurance though so it actually didn’t end up being much of an ordeal. Just one more story about Christine…

As I mentioned, I ended up trading in Christine for my current car, Precious. I like this car. It’s an ’02 Pontiac Trans Am Firehawk. A last of the breed – they don’t make ‘em anymore. I have to admit that I treat this car like my little baby. I picked her up in the spring of ’02 and, largely thanks again to my parents, she spends a lot of time sitting in my garage. She only has a bit over 10k miles on her and I am doing my best to keep her pristine. I never drive her in the rain or snow and my typical washing routine takes multiple days.

What’s a Firehwk? It’s a factory released Firebird Formula (or Trans Am) that was sent to this shop called SLP (Street Legal Performance) for a bit of an upgrade. Precious is actually a Trans Am with an LS1 engine (full aluminum block and cylinder heads), SLP Ram Air intake and hood, 1LE suspension, SLP exhaust and she looks sweet. Firehawks are also very collectable as they are extremely limited in production (only 1500 were made in 2002). Not to mention that she’s rated at 345 hp!

For those days where I can’t drive Precious – and with my babying, this is by far the majority of the time – I drive my other car. This other car was actually a gift from my parents (Did I happen to mention how cool my parents are?) and is a ’93 Chevy Lumina Euro. It’s got quite a few miles on it (well, actually it’s not too bad considering it’s age) and spent a large portion of its life parked out on the street at my parent’s house in Michigan. It’s got a few war wounds but serves its purpose well.

So that’s it – my life history of car ownership. I doubt this was very interesting for you but it gave me something to do for a while… Thanks for reading and I’ll try to get back to some more interesting stuff in the near future.

bis später,

Coriolis

To the present...

As I mentioned at the start of this blog, I am currently living in Germany. You might be wondering (after reading my life story so far…) how this actually came to be. Well, I’ll tell you. I’m going to attempt to complete my life story up to the present in this one posting. It may be a rather long posting, but I am determined to do it.

So I grew up in Detroit (well, mostly Allen Park … but I lived in the Detroit metropolitan area for the first 24 or so years of my life…), spent a year down in Boca Raton then made the move to Longmont. The situation with Sandy has already been told, I will now continue the story from that point…

As I had mentioned, Sandy was of the impression that I would have no problem finding work in Colorado. She was right. It was only about two weeks after moving to Colorado that I was able to get a job at this small “mom and pop” ASIC (Application Specific Integrated Circuit) design house named SIS Microelectronics (the SIS didn’t stand for anything…). How I was able to actually land this job, I really couldn’t say. I had been working for EDS after graduation and had absolutely no experience in ASIC design. I must have said the correct things in the interview, however, as the nice people at SIS Microelectronics were actually willing to give me a try. Sweet, I finally got a job in hardware engineering … this was what I spent all those years in school for.

The best part about it was that SIS was located in Longmont. I mean the idea of living in Longmont was so that I could look for work in Denver, Boulder and Fort Collins; however I was able to land a job in Longmont! Sweet! At least my professional life was starting to look a bit brighter. I was sharing an apartment with Sandy (well, kind of…) and had even solved my unemployment problem. Not to mention the fact that I was now living in Colorado – and I always liked Colorado. I had only been there once before on a ski trip with the WSU Ski Club (I was actually the vice president of the ski club – Rachel was the president – and we arranged a trip to Steamboat Springs during one of my senior years in college) but I immediately fell in love with the state during this trip. Yeah, my life was finally starting to come together…

My social life was still a bit of a mess, but that’s always been an area that I haven’t really had much success in. I’m just not known as being a very sociable person – never have been and probably never will. That’s okay though … I seem to be able to somehow find myself a small group of friends pretty much wherever I end up and I always have my old friends back in Michigan to fall back on when the shit really hits the fan. Interesting (well to me, at least) side note here: I have recently been informed by Jon that I am a “character”. This was brought on while at work over here in Germany. You see there’s this technical expert that is currently visiting the Braunschweig site from the states. As he was due to arrive, meetings were being setup so that the team here could get the most use out of him during his visit. A couple days ago he walked into the office where Jon and I sit to ask if we had any issues we wanted to discuss. While he was there, he asked me if we had met before. Now get this – we had. Turns out that he actually took a training course about four or five years ago and I was the instructor. Now I’m not good at remembering names (or even people, in general) and there were something like 15 people in that class so I really couldn’t say that I remembered him; but he remembered me. Perhaps I am a bit of a character…

So where was I? Oh yeah, SIS… So I worked at SIS for about four years. It was a good job and gave me the opportunity to learn quite a bit about the entire ASIC design process. You see, SIS was a very small custom ASIC Design shop. Most of the well known ASIC Design shops were actually rather large. In fact ASIC work is usually done by groups within much larger companies. Companies such as LSI Semiconductor, Motorola, Texas Instruments – you know … the big guys. SIS had something like a dozen or so employees at its zenith. We were a small shop… What this meant was that we really didn’t have the unitization of the design process that you can get when you have thousands of employees. Yeah, certain engineers in our small company had more expertise in various aspects of the process, but in order to get the ICs done we all needed to pretty much do work in all areas of the design. There’s a saying about engineers that goes something like “you learn more and more about less and less until you know everything about nothing.” Working in such a small company actually gave me the opportunity to at least get a feel for the various tasks that were required to complete a successful ASIC design. It gave me a way of better understanding the entire process rather than just focusing all my efforts on one aspect.

The only real problem with being such a small design shop was that we weren’t able to sell ourselves as well as the big guys. We were basically forced to take on projects from customers that were either to poor to afford the larger company’s fees or had been turned down by the larger companies due to small productions or just plain bad designs. This situation couldn’t last forever and four years into working there, SIS was sold off to Aspec Technologies – a company in the Silicon Valley that was in the process of going public and was trying to further expand its capabilities in order to drive up the price of its IPO. The move worked as the stock price for Aspec opened trading at the highest price it would ever see. It stayed there for a period of less than a day and then began its decline. Aspec Technologies is now out of business…

How this relates to my life was that, after being sold to Aspec, the workload completely dried up. We were able to stay in Longmont as opposed to moving operations out to the Silicon Valley which was good. I don’t think we got a single new project to work on which was bad. I remember about a three month period where I would basically go into work every day and just surf the web for eight hours then go home. There was nothing for me to work on. This was when I realized that I had to get going – and I had to do it quickly! ASIC design is not an industry where you want to spend too much time sitting on your ass doing nothing. The technology is constantly changing and moving forward (smaller and smaller technologies as well as toolsets that are in a constant state of change) and if you get pigeon holed into outdated skills you’re screwed! Luckily, I had at least one contact that was working as an AE (Applications Engineer) with Avant! – an EDA (Electronic Design Automation) tool vendor that was just starting to get a presence in the ASIC industry. I inquired on whether they were looking to hire and actually was able to get a job as an AE for Avant! myself…

Working as an AE was quite different that working as a design engineer. Rather than being responsible for actual design work for customers I was now tasked with helping other design engineers with the use of Avant!’s toolset. I was also – rather quickly it seems – given the task of instructing classes for our customers on the use of the toolset. This was rather interesting as I instructed classes at Avant!’s Fremont, California main campus as well as several on-site classes at various customer’s campuses. The office that I was working from, however, was located in Boulder, Colorado. What this meant was that I spent – with technical support and training – a lot of time on the road (well, at airports and hotels, actually). I only worked for Avant! for a year and a half and took something like 17 business trips in that period. It got to where I seemed to be waking up in various hotel rooms far more often that I was waking up in my own bed. I would write some more about this, but I need to get on with my story or this thing will never end – maybe I’ll write more about this later…

Doing the whole “living my life out of a suitcase” thing got old pretty quickly (as I said, I worked for Avant! for only a year and a half…) and life, as it would seem, sometimes has some rather unexpected surprises hidden in it. I was still living in Colorado. I wasn’t in the same apartment that I moved to after moving out of the apartment with Sandy though. As a matter of fact, I had since moved to this old condo (rented…) over on the northeast side of Longmont (an area referred to by some as “Taco Flats”), rented a house in Boulder when I got the job at Avant! and moved to an apartment in Broomfield when Avant! moved it’s northern Colorado office from Boulder to Broomfield. I was currently living in the Broomfield apartment. The thing is that I had kept in touch with some of the guys that I used to work with at SIS Microelectronics (I refuse to call it Aspec Technologies as that situation didn’t go to well…) and was asked to help one of them, Jim move from a condo he had bought (and just sold) to this new duplex that he recently purchased. Sure, as I said before, I’m always willing to help a brother out…

The thing is that Aspec had gone belly-up while I was working at Avant!. The former SIS team was sold to a company by the name of Orbit in the asset liquidation. Orbit was currently in the process of getting bought by Flextronics International and was going to become a new subsidiary by the name of Flextronics Semiconductor. The remaining people from what once was SIS Microelectronics were now in the process of becoming Flextronics Semiconductor. I headed up to Loveland to help Jim move. Ray – my former boss at SIS – was also there to help. During one of the trips between the old condo and the new duplex, Ray asked me if I was interested in coming back to work with the team. I basically told him that I was interested (remember, the constant business traveling was starting to become a pain) but that I didn’t know when I would be able to do it. I think it was about a month later when I resigned from Avant!...

I headed over to this strip club, Cheerleaders with Matt – a guy that worked shortly at Avant! before getting laid off for no good reason – after my last day of work there. It was here that I received a phone call from Ray saying that I could start work at Flextronics Semiconductor as soon as I wanted. A few weeks later I was working at Flextronics. It was kinda like moving forward in reverse as I pretty much felt like I was back at SIS Microelectronics again. Sure, there were some new faces, but the feel was definitely the same as when I worked at SIS. I was back doing actual ASIC design work and didn’t need to worry about the non-stop business travel anymore … or so I thought…

Funny thing is that Ray called me into his office that following fall and asked if I would be interested in heading down to Dallas to work with Texas Instruments on one of the ASICs that we were currently doing. He told me that it would just be for a couple of weeks and I agreed to do it. I headed down to Dallas and returned back to Colorado two weeks later. I then headed back to Dallas (the project wasn’t completed…) and returned back to Colorado two weeks later. I actually ended up doing this for seven months straight – I would spend two weeks in Dallas, one weekend back in Colorado and then head back to Dallas on the next Monday. So much for avoiding business trips…

I really didn’t mind it too much. The biggest problem was that I had just recently bought a house in Longmont. It was a bit strange having finally purchased a house and pretty much living in Dallas while the house remained vacant… Oh well, it could have been worse – during the four years that I worked at Flextronics, this was the only business trip that I went on. After the Dallas trip I was able to stay in Colorado and live in my newly purchased house.

It was actually about a year ago when Flextronics International decided that they were going to sell the semiconductor portion of their business and Flextronics Semiconductor was sold to AMI Semiconductor. This would finally be the end of the crew that was remaining from the old SIS Microelectronics group. The options that we had were to try to obtain work with AMI (which would mean moving to either Pocatello, ID – their main campus – or Dallas, TX) or look for work elsewhere. Since AMI is primarily a mixed-signal and analog circuitry house (and since I really wasn’t interested in moving to either location) I decided that it was time to start looking for work elsewhere. I stayed on as part of the transition team and once again became unemployed in March of this year.

Unfortunately, the semiconductor industry has seen much better days than it is currently seeing. Companies are doing all they can to cut costs and try to stay alive. What this means is that (at least in the Colorado area) most of the companies are now laying off many more engineers than they are hiring. I was trying my best to find a job but was having no luck whatsoever. I actually began playing quite a bit of poker and was even looking into what it would take for me to make a living as a professional poker player. Unfortunately, I figured out what it would take and the answer was a combination of a lot of luck and a much larger bankroll than I had access to. I was unsuccessfully looking for work and rather quickly depleting what little money I had remaining. Creditors don’t really care if you have a job; you’re still required to make your payments. I needed to find some source of income.

I really didn’t want to move – I kinda like my little house in Colorado – but was having no luck in finding local work. The only leads I seemed to be getting were always for either contract work at another location or the possibility of moving out to California or Texas. What to do … what to do…?

This one job kept coming up again and again. I don’t know how many emails I received about it and I had even received a couple calls from some recruiters on it. The problem was that it was a job in Germany. I mean, Germany? How crazy would that be if I were to actually take a contract job in Germany? It was also for a very large company that is well known in the semiconductor industry. I caN’T rEalLy tell you the name of this company as I have signed an NDA agreement with them, but they’re definitely not small potatoes… The thing is that desperate times call for desperate measures and as I was basically sitting there watching my money dwindle away I had a change of heart.

My flight landed in Hannover, Germany on July 15th. If life’s taking me down, I’m not going without a fight…

bis später,

Coriolis