Amsterdam Twenty-Four: The Agony and the Ecstasy

I sat at my favorite stool at Eik en Linde eating breakfast and drinking coffee. Kasper asked if I was still seeing Vanessa. I said yes. He sighed. “Philip’s a hound, too.” I said, “Red-haired Philip, he of the pony tail, the man who cooks the delicious uitsmijters?” Kasper nodded, “Yep, that’s the one. With your torrid new affair and his nightly conquests, well, let’s just say I sometimes miss the single life.” I had seen Kasper’s wife and two darling kids on a couple occasions as they were heading in or out of the café. I said, “You know, Kasper, I would trade places with you in a heartbeat. To go home to your family every night, hug your beautiful wife and sit your kids on your lap to read stories, man, it sounds like a dream to me.” Kasper nodded, “Yeah, unfortunately it’s not always like that. Sometimes I come home and my wife is hollering at me to grab the kids while she’s pulling something hot out of the stove because they’re scrapping. Then it’s trying to get them to put away their toys, the temper tantrums, my short fuse ignited by my wife’s, and so on.” I laughed and countered, “Before Vanessa, I spent about 250 nights in a row without a woman in bed next to me. The only racket I heard was on the television.” Kasper smiled and nodded. “The grass is always greener, huh?” Indeed.

As Kasper went about his business I thought of Leonard Cohen. He had sang or written or said, in response to his reputation as a womanizer, that everyone knows about the affairs but no one knows about the 10,000 lonely nights. After S., I had wondered if that would be my fate, thousands of lonely nights interspersed with short-term affairs. That had been the pattern thus far. In a gloomy way, I saw it as my future. Weird to think that after such an insanely wild night with Vanessa. Night? It was barely over two hours and yet it felt like months. Damn if she doesn’t pack each moment with a lifetime of living. Unlike anything I had ever experienced and I had been a wild fuck in my youth. She had me beat, though. By far.

Peter walked into the café and was removing his scarf to hang it on a hook near the door. I yelled at him, “Where the hell have you been?!” He shuddered then looked over at me. “Jesus Christ, Michael! I haven’t even had a beer yet and you’re already yelling at me. Christ almighty.” He hung up his coat and sat across from me on the other side of the curly Q. He waved at Kasper then turned to me. “You know, it’s hardly polite to yell at a man when he enters a fine drinking establishment such as this. ‘Welcome, Peter, haven’t seen ya in a long time. Come, sit and have a snort.’ That’s the sort of thing a decent fellow might say.”

I nodded. I agreed, of course, but it was Peter so I said, “Come on, Peter. You know there’s nothing decent about me.” Kasper set a glass of beer in front of Peter. He picked up the glass and took a big drink. “Ja, that’s true. Don’t know what I was thinking.” I chuckled and said, “So nothing’s changed since I last saw you.” Peter put down his glass and straightened up in his chair. He looked at me, exasperated. “Christ, kid, you’re unloading both barrels on me today. This is an entirely indecent hour for this. Wait until I’ve had three or four beers first.” I looked at my watch and said, “So, what, five minutes?” He slapped the table and began shaking with laughter. “If you buy ‘em for me that fast then okay. Jesus Christ, I haven’t had to say Christ’s name so often in the morning since, well, I first met you. Christ, Michael, you’re going to make me responsible for the Second Coming. Don’t put a burden like that on me. There isn’t enough beer in the world for me to handle something like that.”

I smiled and put up my hands, nodding okay. “Fair enough, Peter. It’s usually the other way around, you know.” Peter took another drink of beer and fished out a cigarette from his pack of Galoushes. He lit it, inhaled, and exhaled a reply. “Is it? Have I ever put you in jeopardy of bringing Christ back to earth to condemn us heathens?” I didn’t have a pithy response. I realized this was the first time I had ever seen Peter before he had been drinking. Such a different personality. Hmmm. “I suppose you haven’t, Peter. I don’t have the personal relationship with Jesus Christ that you do.” Peter exhaled more smoke. “Oh, I don’t have a personal relationship with Jesus. I just call out his name when I’m verbally assaulted before I’ve had a beer. I worry he’ll come one of these times. He can’t ignore me forever … No, I take that back. He’s been ignoring everyone for two thousand years. Strange, you would think people would stop hoping he’d come to visit after not returning calls so long.”

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my stool. “Yeah. I suppose it’s not his fault. After all, he’s been dead a long time. I think it’s a little weird to expect a dead guy to show up to a celebration thrown for him. It would be fun to go to a funeral, though, and see the guy in the casket get up to start drinking with the mourners.” Peter got a kick out of that. He finished his beer, stood up, and made his way back toward the WC. Kasper put a beer in front of Peter’s empty seat then turned to me. “Michael, the regulars are willing to pay your tab if you keep Peter occupied for the rest of the day.” I laughed. “If they’re willing to do that I’m going to start ordering the good stuff.” I waved down to the other end of the bar and got a laugh. “How bout an espresso, Kasper? I’m going to take off soon.” He nodded and turned away.

When Peter came back we chatted amiably. He wasn’t in a jovial mood. Melancholy, no different than any other human being in that he had different moods on different days. One of the things that happens when seeing a person over time is that caricatures crumble and a complex person appears. I had been interacting with a person Peter wasn’t, but fortunately I had my eyes and ears open so I saw him as he was on this day. We both shifted gears and settled down into a slower, quieter conversation. I enjoyed it and I felt closer to Peter than I had previously. There was a greater warmth in my belly because of it, a sense of being full in the middle of my being rather than way up above my head or down below my feet. It’s soothing to be within oneself, like being in a womb, a good place to go to recuperate from the frazzle of the world before being born back into it.

I bid Kasper and Peter adieu and went to an ATM. I stood in front of the machine for a good minute. I thought of the three-way corner I had been at the previous day and cherished this fresh moment of decision. 6000 Euros, that was what I was going to give Vanessa. I looked around to make sure I wasn’t making anyone wait. There was no one in the area at all. I sighed deeply and turned very slowly in a circle. I saw the red-bricked street, the gray sky, the brown trees with just a few yellow and green leaves left, the bicycle lane, the sidewalk, the three middle-aged women walking away from where I stood on the opposite side of the street, each dressed warmly in winter coats, scarves, and caps, and then I came back around to the cash machine again. I inserted my card, pressed buttons, and 2000 Euros shuffled out. I retrieved them and my card, put them in my wallet, and walked away from the ATM.

I went home and sent an SMS to Vanessa knowing she was likely asleep. I worked all afternoon, finished the index, and sent it to the publisher along with an invoice at 6:00 PM—11:00 AM in the Midwestern United States. I smoked a bowl in celebration then remembered I had cocaine. I did a small line while listening to Phish’s “Stash.” Would Vanessa be happy tonight? “Maybe so, maybe not” sang Trey Anastasio. I answered instead, “Definitely so.” I danced happily around the room.

At seven Vanessa sent me an SMS. “What you doing now?” I responded, “I’m dancing!” Vanessa didn’t reply so at 7:30 I sent another SMS. “What time are you coming over tonight?” She sent a text back, “Who you dance with?” I laughed as I texted, “With you!” Moments later the phone rang. “Who you dance with?” I laughed and said “I’m going to be dancing with you when you come over!” There was a pause and then that wonderful lilt, “You want I come over, baby?” Duh! “Yes!” She asked what time. I said now. “No, I not ready. Nine, okay?” I said yes then said, “Can you stay all night?” A pause. “You want I stay?” Jesus. “Yes, Vanessa, I want you to stay tonight. Okay?” Another pause, “Um, okay. I let agency know I no work tonight. Is Monday. Work slow so okay.” Excellent.

I showered, wrapped fluffy around my waist, and checked email. The editor sent a note thanking me for finishing the index early. I celebrated with a puff from my pipe and chopped a line. The phone rang; it was Vanessa. “I here, baby.” She arrived early, very much unlike her. I went down the stairs and opened the door. Vanessa’s eyes went wide and said, “Baby, you ready to go!” I smirked and invited her inside. “I just got out of the shower. I didn’t expect you so soon.” Vanessa said, “Yeah, I come early. Is okay, baby?” I planted a wet kiss on her lips and then twirled around. My towel unraveled. “Of course it’s okay! Tonight is a night of celebration!” She laughed but looked at me wearily. “You crazy. I like, but you crazy.” She seemed in better spirits. I almost asked about her dad but stopped myself. Shit, that would have been bad. Completely naked, totally vulnerable, and I was going to ask about her dad?! What the hell was I thinking? I could have lost my penis! I shivered and wrapped the towel around me again.

Vanessa saw the coke on the CD case and said to me, “No wonder you so happy!” She sidled up to the table, pulled out a bill to do the line I was going to do before she rang, and poured almost half the cocaine out of the baggie. She mashed and diced up the coke, spread out four lines, and left a little pile of cola to be lined up later. She switched nostrils and did another line.

Vanessa had on a light jacket, jeans, and white tennis shoes. I had never seen her dress so casually. I took it as a compliment—she didn’t feel the need to impress me by getting all dolled up. We had become that comfortable and familiar with one another. She was sexy even in casual clothing. Vanessa broke the silence. “You want me stay all night, baby?” I said, “Yeah. I told you that earlier, remember?” Vanessa sniffled and rubbed her nose. “Yeah, I checking make sure.”

I sat down next to her and put my arm around her. She snuggled into me and said, “I make line for you. You have bill?” I went to my bedroom to get a bill. The 6000 Euros were wadded up in a rubber band in the top dresser drawer. Not yet. I was waiting for the right time. I wanted to see how things played out before I gave her the money, to wait for the right moment to truly surprise her.

I was ready to get at the yayo, but thought for a second. I worried about Vanessa. We spent one visit together without doing coke and that was the night she told me about her father’s accident. Otherwise we always did blow. Did she need it to get up for her nights? It wouldn’t be good for her over time. I wished I could get her out of this life. For me, the coke was a temporary gig, a rollicking good time for a couple weeks. This was the beginning of the end of my trip to Amsterdam. It dawned on me, though, that I wanted to come back—and soon!

I returned to the living room and Vanessa asked if we could listen to music. I said yes and retrieved my MacBook from the kitchen table. She searched on YouTube while I did a line. A weird gypsy fiddle came into play and Vanessa opened Yahoo! Messenger, chatting with several friends. I put my arm around her and kissed her cheek. Vanessa said one of her friends thought I was cute. I didn’t really care, I just wanted her to stop playing and give me her attention. I said, "I am cute. That’s why you love me and want to marry me." Vanessa slapped my arm while smiling. “That my line!” Speaking of lines … zoom!

Vanessa closed Messenger. I was grateful; I was selfish: I wanted her attention. She started dancing, but in a relaxed way as the music slowed down. I grabbed a couple beers and gave on to Vanessa. She continued swaying while drinking. I danced with her, drinking my beer as well. Her smile was infectious. “Why you smile, baby?” I put my arm around her. “Because you’re here.” We danced for another ten minutes, finishing our beers. I grabbed two more while Vanessa vacuumed a line. She was lining up more and was about to zoom another, but I grabbed her arm. She said with more than a little surprise, “What you do?” I asked her how her dad was and her nostrils flared. “I told you no ask me! Fuck you!” She got up quickly and I wasn’t sure if she was going to hit me or leave.

I was smiling because I knew what was coming next. I was poking the beast with a stick, taking more than a little risk. Vanessa stopped and glared at me, but her lip quivered. It looked like she might cry. “How could you?! After last night?!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. I felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Vanessa. I just … I’m worried about you.” She paused and shook her head. “You … you are not good man. You are  mean!" She angrily and sarcastically asked, “Can I do line now?!” I nodded yes. She did a sizable line which was quite a bit for one snort.

I re-rolled my bill and snorted one using both nostrils. “Wow!” The stuff was dynamite. Vanessa found a long-playing Romanian tune, one with techno beats and House bleeps. She rose to her feet and danced. I watched her groove. When the music stopped Vanessa glared at me. She walked to me, though, and put her arms around me. She embraced me in a hug. "What I do?" Quite a difference from last night. I was disappointed, in a way, because I was ready to give her the money while she was pissed at me. Weird, yes, but it was what I had pictured. Something about being ready to be assaulted gave me a rush.

I figured, “What the fuck,” and moved her to the chaise lounge near the top of the stairs. Vanessa looked at me quizzically and shrugged her shoulders. It was where I usually tossed my coat after coming inside but otherwise I never used it. I said to her, “Stay here. Just one minute, okay? I have something for you.” She looked bewildered but curious. “You have present for me?” She smiled delightfully and rubbed her hands together. Her eyes were alight with excitement.

“You’ll see. Just wait a minute.” I went to the bedroom dresser drawer and pulled out the wad. I looked at it for a moment and a brief wave of panic came over me. I said aloud to myself, “It’s now or never, Michael.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I took the rubber band off the wad and heard Vanessa say, “What you doing? Why I sit here?” Her voice was filled with a mix of anticipation and impatience. I laughed, both to myself and at myself.

I casually walked to the chaise lounge. My hand was behind my back. “You know, I’ve been thinking about your papa.” Vanessa rolled her eyes and yelled with fierce disgust, “No! I no want talk—” I cut her off by holding my finger to my lips and making a very loud “Shhhh” sound. “Trust me. Please, Vanessa. I promise this will be good. I will not hurt your feelings. I promise.” Then I “locked” my lips by turning my fingers and pretending to throw away a key over my shoulder. Vanessa cocked her head and looked at me like I was insane. Nevertheless, she giggled and copied the gesture. Okay. “Vanessa, I think I can help you. But I have one favor to ask first.” Suspicion peered through her eyes as they squinted. Her lips thinned and she tightened her jaw. “I have a gift for you, but I want you to stay tonight without charging me as an escort. The gift is very, very good and I think it will be worth it to you. I can’t afford to pay you for tonight because of this gift. Is that okay?” Vanessa threw up her hands. “How I know is okay? I no know gift!” I said, “If you like the gift will you agree to stay for no pay?” Vanessa considered this and said, “Must be very good gift for no pay.” I opened my mouth and laughed then stopped but kept it open in a big grin. “Oh, Vanessa, it is very good gift.”

I pulled my hand from behind my back and tossed the money in the air. The bills exploded like an atom bomb, mushrooming high over the chaise lounge before 120 fifty-Euro bills fluttered down over her body and all around her. At first she looked angry. “What this? What you do?” Then she picked up a few bills and saw they were 50s, dozens of 50s. Both hands went over her mouth, eyes shocked and wide as saucers. She pulled her hand away from her open mouth. She was speechless. She looked up at me like she had seen something that couldn't possibly exist. I said, “For your papa.” Vanessa grabbed two handfuls of bills and tossed them in the air. “Wheeee!” She shook her head, her mouth still open in delirious shock, her hands slapped against her cheeks. She looked up at me again, a million wonderful emotions bulging through her eyes. She jumped up and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. She stood on her toes and pulled my head down to wildly kiss me, a messy kiss fueled by abandon.

Eventually she pulled back and shook her head. “No. No, you no do this. This, this, this, this … is too much.” She looked up at me with such confusion I didn’t know what to say. I was at a loss just as much as she was. It was almost as hard for me to wrap my mind around what I had done as it was for her. “You are …” She stopped and then looked at me suspiciously. “What you want for this? You play trick on me?” I laughed, doubling over. Vanessa said, “No funny, Michael” She never called me Michael. I pulled myself together and sat her down. I sat down beside her on the chaise covered with bills. “Vanessa, I am giving you a gift so you can help your papa. I don’t want anything in return. It is a gift. No strings attached.”

Vanessa considered this. She held her chin in her hands as she looked down at the ground. Her hair covered the side of her face, but I could see the profile of her cute nose and pouting lips. She breathed more regularly. “Michael, baby, I … no one do this … what you do?” She turned to me. “You afford this, I am sure, but is so much money. I feel … I no know.”

I sat back and thought. I had to choose the right words. “Vanessa, this is for your papa, but it is also for me.” She didn’t understand and I wasn’t sure I could explain. “I need to do this. It is important for me to do this for your family. You have given me so much, so much more than you know, just by being who you are and treating me like a real person instead of just a client. It means so much to me and … I don’t know how else to say it. You are a good person and I want to do something that you really need, something that no one else but I can or will give you. You deserve good things in life and you love your family, your papa.”

I said, “Iubescu.” Vanessa looked at me with such tenderness and affection. A light smile and a lean to kiss my cheek. “Okay. I understand, but I no understand. You wonderful … and crazy!” A laughing hug. She rose and picked up a few bills but I stopped her. “Hold on!” I yelled. She stopped in her tracks. “Sit back down.” As she did I threw money on her. “Wait here.” I ran to my room and got my camera. I came back and started clicking photos of her. Squealing laughter. She tried to cover her face and then took her hands away, grabbing wads of cash and throwing the bills in the air. Her head was bent back, ecstasy in her upward-gazing eyes, and a smile that stopped time. I captured the shot perfectly and just kept clicking. She stood up and twirled several times and then struck a pose as she waved a fan of money near her face.

We laughed and played. She tackled me and kissed me, I hung her upside down over the railing of the stairs while she screamed. We were elated and free-spirited, existing in a world separate from the one going to hell everywhere else. My heart was warm. I felt a surge of love, not strictly for Vanessa or myself, not focused on any person or object. I simply felt love. Vanessa said, “Play time over?” I nodded. She breathed deep then we collected the money. When we stacked it the pile was a few inches high. Vanessa walked back over to the table. “We celebrate, no?” I said yes. She rolled a bill and bent over the CD case to Hoover a line. I joined her and zinged one. We listened to more music, danced, and soon it was midnight. Vanessa grabbed her bag and asked if she could use my bathroom. I said yes and went to the kitchen to get water and beers. I brought them out on a tray and put it on the coffee table.

I turned on some light jazz and sat down. Wow. Giving the money and the celebration together was so wonderful, so electric, so dreamy, so fulfilling and the yayo amplified the euphoria. I couldn’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt, but I didn’t care. Possibly the best pain there is, cheeks hurting from smiling and laughing. When Vanessa exited the bathroom she was dressed in sexy red lingerie. She put her hand against the wall, dipped her head to the side, crossed one slender leg in front of the other and said, “Come here, baby.” Oh, my. Oh my, oh my, oh my ... oh my. I walked toward her, but as I did she walked into the bedroom. Over her shoulder she curled her finger to say, “Follow me and I will take you to heaven. I have a divine white cloud reserved just for us.”

As I entered the bedroom, Vanessa was laid out on the bed. She had a chocolate in her teeth, half of it poking out for me. I undressed and slid on top of her, biting down on the chocolate, letting it melt in my mouth as I kissed her. I felt her body through her lacy lingerie, her breasts supple and firm, bulging beyond my hands, her stomach taut but ticklish as she giggled and squirmed, her hairless pussy warm and moist through the silk and lace. She sighed excessively and ran her fingers and hands up and down and across my back and arms. She reached over to the dresser and grabbed a condom. I looked and saw several there. Ooooh, very, very good. I began undoing her lingerie, but she stopped me, rolled me off of her, and performed a sexy dance on her knees as she undressed. It was all I could do to sit still.

She bit open the condom and applied it with her mouth down my shaft. She worked me and worked me. “Woman, your mouth is a gushing melonberry squish with a lime twist.” Gurgle, mphle, urmph? "Never mind, sweetcheeks, just do what you do. Don’t mind me, I’m cocaine jabber, pulses of jibber utter; you play that fellatio fiddle in that special gypsy way you do." Pop! “What you say?” I looked down at her, my member at attention saluting her cheek. “I’m flying from the cocaine. Don’t pay attention. I can’t stop talking. I don’t want to stop! I’m just layering the sounds of poetry onto the lyrics you’re singing to my cock.” A shake of the head, “So strange,” and her lips around me once again. Sigh.

She sucked then we fucked, more beer, cocaine, music, and dancing, then sucking and fucking then more coke, beer, making out on the couch, moving back to the bedroom, tenderness overflowing into lovemaking, gentle caresses, whispers of affection, exhausted heap, abundant sleep. Vanessa woke at ten and smacked me in the face while yawning. “Morning, baby.” I propped myself up on my elbows and checked if my nose was bleeding. “You want breakfast, sugar?” Vanessa smiled and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. On the way she said, “Yes.” I got up and made omelets, cut a cantaloupe, and placed yogurt on the table. Orange juice, milk, coffee or water? “Water and coffee. Mmmm, smell good, baby.” We ate in silence, naked, quiet smiles on our faces, shared glances, sleepy relaxation.

“Wow, I was famished!” Vanessa asked, “What is ‘famish’?” I said, “It means I was really hungry.” Oh. Vanessa left the table and took a shower. I put on sweats and relaxed on the couch listening to a 70s rock station. Peter Frampton, ELP, Allman Brothers, and then Vanessa came out of the shower. I gasped at her still wet body. She looked at me while naked and said, "You like me, baby?" Oh dear god. My heart flib-flammed and I said, “Vanessa, can you stand there for a minute, please.” She asked why. “Because you’re so fucking sexy and I want to take pictures with my mind.” She giggled and tried to cover her body with her arms, pretending to be shy. She ran back in the bathroom and came out wrapped in a towel. She walked to her bag to get a change of clothes. She collected her things, got dressed, and walked to the couch. “I go, baby. You call taxi?” I said yes and went online as she continued to get ready. I ordered a cab then Vanessa sat down next to me to wait. She leaned her head against my shoulder and folded her arm under mine and caressed my hand with hers.

Her bag was near the stairs. We looked at the table. There was coke, a tray of drinks, a laptop, and a nice fat stack of 50s. I turned to Vanessa as she turned to me. We smiled at each other and she said, “Is really for me?” I kissed her forehead, picked up the stack, and handed it to her. I also gave her the bill I had used to do blow, a twenty. “For the taxi.” My phone rang. The taxi was out front. Vanessa got up and put the money in her purse—it barely fit—and her purse in her bag. She stood next to me at the top of the stairs shaking her head. She turned to me, her eyes misty. “Thank you, Michael. I never forget this.” She walked down the stairs, opened the door, and blew me a kiss.