Amsterdam -- Any Requests?
One of the great things about going somewhere for the weekend is the requests people make. Some of these can tip you off to a great food or drink (speaking of which, if any of you come from Nashville, bring me a Bella Vita from Da Vinci's Pizza), but it also has other side effects. Belgium will brook requests or sad wishes for chocolate and beer; England, tea or bizarre candies; France, wine or cheese, but only Amsterdam requires glances over the shoulder and lowered voices. After all, what are they going to ask for? A Rembrandt? Tulips? Souvenir left ears? Amstel freaking Light? Nope. People claim they go for the Rijksmuseum, Anne Frank House or tulips, but they really just want porn or pot. And nothing's more fun than having someone drop into a whisper for their request only to follow it up with, "Ooooh, I don't know much about that. Is it a problem if I get the wrong kind?" Invariably, the answer is no. Because whether you want to get high or horny, only the best will do.