Sunday, September 18, 2005

Hanky Panky and The Homicidal Hooker: Part One

Amsterdamn, 1990. My best friend/traveling buddy and I were on the hunt. We had made a pact to get tattoos on our epic European adventure tour of 89-90. No ordinary place would do. We had to have the best, the coolest, the ultimate tattoo parlor in Amsterdam. And being the stupid American girls that we were (are), we hadn't a clue as to which one it is. We just knew there had to be such a place. This was Amsterdam after all. If you were going to get a tattoo, this is the place to get one.

After several days of investigation in countless coffee shops, it became clear that the only place to consider for the permanent staining of our bodies was The Hanky Panky. It's not just a tattoo parlor, it's a museum. No seriously, it is. Stop laughing.

And so we got drunk. Isn't that what you are supposed to do when you get a tattoo? Never ones to do anything without an audience, we picked ourselves up a sidekick - an Israeli boy named Ducky. No kidding, his name was Ducky. You can't make that shit up. Ducky joined us as we proceeded to drink ourselves into a stupor at the hotel bar (another time I will tell you about the hotel, remind me) and then we spent the rest of the evening stumbling through the red light district in search of the Hanky Panky.

At last we found it. So much time and effort and alcohol had brought us to this moment that we could barely contain our excitement - or keep ourselves from swaying - as we made our way down the stairs to get our long awaited inkstains.

It was closed.

How can a tattoo parlor in the red light district of Amsterdam be closed at 10 o'clock at night? We were so incensed, so inebriated, that we actually managed to crawl up the two flights of stairs to "The Other Place", the bar above the tattoo parlor. Upon entering, we were full of questions. Why was the tattoo parlor closed! Where were the tattoo artists! Why was there a bong shaped like a penis behind the bar!

The bartender leaned very close to me and unloaded the loudest burp in my face that I have ever heard. He then informed us that the Hanky Panky was closed at night because of stupid American girls like ourselves who go in drunk at night for tattoos and then come back crying the next day because their parents are going to kill them. Then he walked away laughing to his friends at the bar, saying something in Dutch. I heard the words "silly bitches" in there somewhere.

I was drunk. Did I mention that? And no bartender walks away from me without giving me a free drink and hitting on me!

That's MISS Bitch to you.

What?

Sorry Burp, I should have asked. Do you speak English?

Of course I speak English, you just heard me.

Ah, then I repeat, that is MISS Bitch to you. Now, where is the tattoo artist and what does one have to do to get a drink around here?


He cracked a smile. He fought it, but he did. He said something to his friends at the bar. They stood up and said they would be back with the tattoo artist. Burp ambled back over and asked us what we were drinking. He waved away our money.

Thank you Burp.

That's Mr. Burp to you.

I won.

It was then that we noticed the motorcycle hanging on the wall with what looked like a pair of woman's legs draped over it. Ducky and BF started noticing other things around the bar - pictures of bikers, leather jackets with fiery words, logos with skulls. We wandered around the bar with our drinks, ogling the various "art", as it slowly became clear to us where we were.

Apparently we had stumbled into a Hell's Angels' bar.






to be continued.....click here for part two

28 comments:

Melliferous Pants said...

Does this mean I have to update my blog roll to read Miss Bitch instead of Babbling Brooke?

ducklet said...

coffee shops and window women. /sigh sometimes i wonder why i ever left amsterdam and my cozy cot at the flying pig.

oh, right, i ran out of money.

Neil said...

Wow, you were (are) one tough-talking broad! Weren't you afraid of this guy at all?

Keith said...

Did Ducky look anything like Jon Cryer?

Brookelina said...

MP - that's a special name just for Mr. Burp.

Brando - I was offered a job as a waitress with a place to live while I was there, one of my only regrets in life is that I didn't do it.

Neil - it's all in the delivery. I actually said it very sweetly, believe it or not.

Keith - same hair.

gone said...

Reminder: tell us about the hotel.

The Moviequill said...

'No ordinary place would do.'...then you got one on your bum? (love the story so far)

Übermilf said...

Do your parents read your blog?

WhiteBoyBob said...

"Smell of good earthy herbs makes my nerves shudder but where were you that cold December?
Cos we were in the Grasshopper spending guilders.
Central Station, charged up like Scarface, Amsterdam ain't a nice place off your face.
We enter the race, walk down, been there before, done that, no joy, if you're bored, let's go see Roy, get
fucked up with the boys."

From Too Much Brandy by The Streets.

Ask Nick/Anthony's Bitch if that ain't a brilliant album.

Brookelina said...

CBT - thanks for the reminder.

MQ - thanks! And yes, that's where the ink landed.

Ubie - do I detect disapproval? No, they don't. My father is dead, and my mother can't figure out how to use a computer no matter how many times I show her. But in case you were wondering, she knows this story.

WBB - I've been to The Grasshopper! And the Bulldog of course - all the tourist spots.

JJ said...

I have a similar story except in mine I'm left beaten within an inch of my life in a gutter. Doesn't really have the same flourish at the end, does it?

Hmm, looking forward to the rest of your story. Don't be such a dawdler and silly heart. Get those postings up, SMG.

Übermilf said...

Not disapproval. Just... I would be afraid for my young daughter to be mouthing off to a big Dutch Hell's Angel, is all. Not disapproving, protective.

"Do you know what could've happened to you, young lady?"

Ruben said...

Should I be concerned that these are some of the things I'd do on a drunken dare?

Brookelina said...

JJ - I didn't want to write too much at once...I know how short the attention span of the average reader is ...what was I saying?

Ubie - I probably rushed through this a bit and didn't really make clear a few things. First, Burp was a tall skinny geek - not a hell's angel. I have a picture - I'll scan it. Second, I had no idea I was in a biker bar when we got there. Third - I was actually saying all these things in a very sweet way and BF and I were sporting cleavage and batting eyelashes all the while. Trust me, they were putty in our hands. Thank you for the concern mom!

Ruben - and I haven't even gotten to the homocidal hooker yet!

The real me said...

Adventurous little bitch, weren't you?

Brookelina said...

You don't know the half of it. And that's Miss Bitch to you.

WunEyedDog said...

Loving it. Any story involving Hanky Panky is good stuff in my book.

Shawn said...

Oh man...don't leave me hangin' like that. Does this story end with a midnight run across the country on a motorcycle to deliver a pound of hash? That would be nuts...if it doesn't, I'll just have to settle for the homicidal hooker I guess...which is still awesome I might add...

Kallun said...

I need to read the rest of the story... I can't function properly until I know that you made it out of the bar alive...

Spirit Of Owl said...

I used to go to a rock club called The Wheatsheaf in Bradford. It was run, pretty much, by the local Satan's Slaves chapter. They would probably have opened a tattoo shop under the pub if only to ensnare young American women but for two things: partly the lack of young American women, but mainly they didn't think of it. Bright entrepreneurial Type As they were not But the place sold good beer, and damn their bikes were coool!

Melanie was here said...

poop!

gone said...

That is a GREAT story! I love women who use the power they have. Real in the pigs with a sweet and sour voice and then give a good kick in the ass! All the while, they are loving it and have no idea that deep down your telling them how cowardly and disgusting they are. Good for you!
It's a true power trip, ain't it?

Evil Petting Zoo said...

how come i have no problem seeing this happening? so tell me, did you partake in the cannibus while you were there?

Lushy said...

I think we should start planning the Lushy Brooke European tour of 2006!

Gordy said...

Great story..even if you didn't tell the story I wanted!

Hope you guys are going to be OK in the face of Rita.

Good luck, my thoughts are with you!

Brookelina said...

Sonofabitch!!!! I was about halfway through part two when power went out. It just came back on but of course - stupid American girl that I am - I hadn't saved anything. So part two will have to wait.....

I did add a picture of the bike on the wall...for added oomph...

Girl With An Alibi said...

I'm so in awe of you. Getting drunken tattoos in Amsterdam... wow! I really wasted my youth. I really did.

sirbarrett said...

Exciting story. Did you end up getting tattoos? The red light district is the tourist spot. Can't wait to read part II.