Night Life

Saturday evening.

Dutchman and I were gasping and running our butts off to the Rembrandt movie theater. Fast, fast! We booked our seats via the online movie booking system, Belbios and that means we should be at the kassa (cashier) 30 minutes before the program starts.

Ocean Twelve…

Frankly speaking, the film was a disappointment. The storyline was fine in the beginning then it strayed off and went straight to the moon! Goodness gracious, for a movie with such high profile actors in its cast, it made me wonder where they placed their excellent judgment in picking movie projects(?). But then, I am admirably such a critic, more so the Dutchman. “Ocean Eleven was surely better.”, Dutchman said.

Here is whats refreshing, the first half of the movie was filmed in good old Amsterdam. Seeing the familiar architecture, streets, stalls and even hearing the church bells ringing brought a strange déjà vu feeling. Amsterdam is beautiful, enigmatic, rustic and mysterious.

And the reprehensibly alluring already divorced *take note girls* Brad Pitt (who’s one of the stars in this movie) is I heard a die hard fan of Amsterdam. He has been spotted a couple of times by paparazzis walking in the streets and frequenting the coffee shops in the Dampkring area. Coffee shops by the way are not places to drink your favorite cappuccino, but to smoke hash, weed, in other words marijuana! Pay attention to that when in Amsterdam.

The Bar and the Booze

After the movie, I cajoled Dutchman that we go clubbing. It was drizzling outside a little bit. I didn’t like the idea of being wet because I just blow dried my hair. I would not want the 30 minutes blow drying vanity to go down the drain, so instead we hopped over to the nearest bar where at least real adults hang-out. Utrecht City is by the way, a student city, flooded with teeny boppers in their oxidized bikes. Because of this it is not easy to find a bar, a pub, a club, or café without these can be pesky kids, hehe. The Dutchman refuses to sit between them as he suddenly feels old.

De Kijker in English it means, The Watcher was the name of the bar where we took refuge. Hmm, maybe everyone in this bar is encouraged to watch each other?

The bar was very druk (busy). I could barely move myself as I snaked behind Dutchman being sandwiched left, right, front and back by all these tall Dutchies. At 5’2” (156CM.) it is indeed a challenging situation entering a room full of tall people. I couldn’t breathe!

“Whelp! Don’t step on me you cheese head or I prick your bulging butt!!!”

After the arduous maze, we, *sigh of relief* emerged in the bar. Dutchman ordered 2 glasses of beer and we retreated to the back portion so I can better exercise my respiratory lungs properly. Ahhhh... it was better. Alas, I could inhale and exhale peacefully.

The European bar is what I call a standing ovation ceremony. Almost every single breathing individual, all throughout the evening until the wee hours of dawn, is - STANDING. Seldom will you see people sitting, people prefer to stand and seats are either empty or have turned into coat hangers. These Yuru-pee-yans all want to STAND, lol! Ugh, to my disdain... poor me, the 5’2” 156CM… huh… huh… I feel like I am in nightmare on elf’s street. I feel like an elf amongst the giants! Maybe I should wear 5 inches heels next time?

The BAR scenario. What do you think? True or False?

Another thing that’s noticeable in these bars (or pubs and clubs) is, you will not see anyone eating. No pulutan (a side dish usually eaten whilst boozing). You are supposed to only drink. My New Yorker friend was complaining to me before: why is it that in (northern) Europe no one wants to have those side dishes or even just a bowl of peanuts when boozing up? She said at least in America, they do.

So, if you come along this way, please don’t start ordering your favorite pulutan such as those yummy buffalo chicken wings because there is NONE. The waiter will tell you to find your way to the nearest McDonalds.

Well, it was fun in the bar. Watching people has always been an enjoyable pastime, actually a hobby that I/we can never outgrow. And witnessing how the Dutch guys try their luck in picking up the Dutch gals was just pure entertainment. I will reserve this for another entry because the Dutchman has A LOT to say.

We finally got home past 3AM and hit the bed.