Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Hanky Panky and The Homicidal Hooker: Part Two

If you missed part one, scroll down. I don't feel like linking it.
Ok fine, here it is.

Yes, we had found our way into a biker bar in Amsterdam, but since the only people there were me, BF, Ducky, and Mr. Burp, we didn't really have cause for concern. Mr. Burp's friends had left on the pretense of seeking out the tattoo artist, so we basically took over the bar and made it our own. Mr. Burp seemed to take to us, and was soon well on his way to catching up with us in our inebriation.

It never occurred to us that his friends were actually looking for the tattoo artist, so imagine our surprise when they came back to the bar with a very large, very inked-up man named Molly. I'm assuming it's a Dutch name, I might have asked him, but I was drunk and this was 15 years ago so who knows. During our independent tattoo research throughout the city, Molly's name had come up several times in relation to the Hanky Panky. We had ourselves a celebrity artist!

We immediately set about trying to charm the .....socks ...off of him, so he would tattoo us that night. No such luck. We did manage to charm the shirt off of him, as you can see from the photo. Yes, that's Molly and me in the biker bar. Hi Mom!

Molly proposed an interesting offer - spend the night drinking and carousing with him throughout the red-light district, show up sober -hungover- tomorrow, and he would personally tattoo us for half price. Hmmm....what should we do....

30 seconds later we were wiping down tables and putting stools up on the bar, as Burp had decided to close the bar and come with us. And yes, to answer your question, this sort of thing does happen to me all the time. Well, it did happen to me all the time, back in the day.

I can honestly tell you that I have very little recall about where we all went and what we did. I have vague memories of going in and out of sex shops, of being chased around the canal by a mohawked shop owner with a riding crop, of squinting in a dark bar to see that the people on the stage were in the middle of an orgy, and of juuuuust a bit more drinking. No drugs though. A girl's gotta have her standards.

Ducky and I had reached the point of no return - eat or pass out. Molly sent us around the corner to get hot dogs for the group of us. Mmmm....hot dogs. Five years of vegetarianism down the drain. We found our way to the hot dog vendor and promptly forgot to get anyone else a thing to eat. Important tip - never send a drunk American girl to get your food. Ducky and I got our hot dogs and found ourselves a nice comfy piece of alleyway under a bright red light to park ourselves. Life was good.

I had just taken a bite of my long-awaited weiner when I heard this horribly shrill voice screaming just above me. Ducky and I just sat there dumbfounded, no idea what was going on in our foggy state. And then the voice got closer, and closer, until it - and its owner - were right in front of us.

It was a hooker. Yes, a real honest-to-God red light Amsterdam prostitute. Apparently we were sitting on the ground just below her window, and she was not happy about it. I have absolutely no idea what she was screaming - it was all very Charlie Brown teacher to me - WONK WONK WONK WONK WONK was all I heard. We stared at her slack-jawed, like the proverbial deer in the headlights. When she realized we weren't moving until we were finished our gourmet meal, she stormed off, wonking all the way.

Ducky and I went back to work on our hot dogs. Across the alley was another hooker in her window. She waved us over to her. Intrigued, we managed to haul ourselves up to see what she wanted. She opened her door and asked us what had happened and if we were ok. I was surprised by how friendly and down to earth she was. She told us the other hooker was a bitch who was always yelling at the tourists and to pay her no mind. I remember thinking that this girl could have very easily been one of my friends, so normal did she seem. We sat and chatted with her for a bit; it was a slow night in the district.

When we finally turned to go, I saw that two middle-eastern looking men were ogling the wonker. She was dancing and squirming, trying to entice them to come to her. As they gestured to her to open her door, I suddenly found myself infuriated that the wonker was going to get business while my new friend there lost out because she was being nice to us. And I was not about to let that happen.

I stormed over to the potential johns, grabbed them by their shirts, and shouted, "You don't want to go to her, she's a bitch, go to HER instead!", and I literally threw them over to my new hooker friend. She quickly let them in, blew me a thank you kiss, and slammed her door shut. I smiled smugly to myself as her shade was drawn. I helped my new friend! I was so proud.

And then we heard that shrieking sound again. Only this time I could hear words like fucking bitch and you're dead mixed in with the shrieks.

I remember very clearly seeing Ducky's eyes go really wide as he grabbed my hand and screamed "RUN!!!!!!!!!". I turned to look, and saw that the hooker was coming after us with something in her hand. It might have been a bat, a machete, I had no idea. My life flashed before my eyes as Ducky jerked me around and we ran like hell, screaming like banshees. Crazy thoughts were flashing through my head - I can't believe how fast she can move in her Frederick's of Hollywood heels, I am going to be killed by a hooker in Amsterdam and that is all anyone will remember about me, just let us get back to Voorburgwal - she can't kill us in front of all those people. Our screams were almost as loud as hers - "MOOOOOLLLLLYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!" I could hear her screeching behind us, "Your mommy can't help you now!!", just as we reached Voorburgwal and I slammed right into the arms of Molly.

The hooker stopped dead in her tracks when she realized we were under Molly's protection. He said something to calm her down, took away whatever was in her hand that she meant to kill me with, and sent her back to her window. He gave us a good scolding for interfering with her business, but he was really more interested in knowing where the hot dogs were. Then we got scolded again for forgetting his food. We decided then it was time to call it a night.

Look at my arm, think I'm holding on tight enough?BF and I did make it back to the Hanky Panky the next day - around 5:00 pm. Molly couldn't believe we actually showed, and even Burp and his friends came down from upstairs when they heard we had arrived. Burp gave us a tour of the museum and Molly showed us pictures of the different rock stars he had tattooed. He drew at least a dozen roses for me until I had just what I wanted, gave me a package of toilet paper to put under my head for a pillow - something I don't think he did for just anyone - and gave me a mirror so I could watch him tattoo my ass. I must have screamed "Is that BLOOD!!!!" 20 times, and each time he would stop so I could see that it was ink, not blood. And yes, it hurts to get a tattoo! Anyone who says it doesn't is lying.

A few months later we went back to Amsterdam one last time. Our first stop was the Hanky Panky to see Molly and Burp again. To be honest, I didn't really expect them to remember us. We were tourists in a tourist town - girls like us came and went on a daily basis. Molly wasn't there, so we introduced ourselves to Henk Schiffmacher, the owner of the Hanky Panky, who insisted on seeing our tattoos.

Yep, that's a Hanky Panky rose alright, he said.

Just then Molly showed up and threw his arms around us.

You remember us! We were so happy to be remembered.

Molly burst out laughing and sent someone upstairs to get Burp. Then he said something to Henk in Dutch, who promptly burst out laughing as well.

So! Henk said, you're the one that almost got herself macheted by that hooker!!

It's always nice to be remembered.

Sort of.

37 comments:

Maddie said...

That's it, I must go to Amsterdam. Love the story, thanks for sharing!

Ubermilf said...

Rick Steves never has excitement like that!

Anonymous said...

Fantastic story (as usual), and one that makes me want to hop on the next Eurostar train and pop over to Amsterdam. I LOVE Holland!

I went touring Europe with a backpack on my back in 1988, but I never had quite the adventure that you did. Still, that's a great memory of getting your butt tatooed, and that's how it should be.

Mr Birmingham - Hanky Panky means a bit of "how's your father". All clear, OK, good.

Anonymous said...

Oh dear I just looked at that picture of me again. I look like a freakin' zombie. AND OLD!!! Oh wait, I am.

Scarlet Hip said...

MP - say hi to Molly for me if you go!

Ubie - Rick Steves is a pussy! Compared to us anyway.

Mr. B. - I'm not sure if you are asking the literal meaning or what it means in my story. In the story it's the name of the tattoo parlor. I linked it if you want to check it out.

Bob - I was there in 89-90. Just missed you! Too bad for you, I was really quite wild back then *wink wink nudge nudge*
And you're right, it's a great memory for me. I really only got a tattoo because of the time and place. I would never get another. Unless I went back of course.
You do not look old!!! And don't be saying you are old, cause if you are old, then I'm an antique.

Modigliani said...

You're cracking me up! That was one CRAZY adventure. Glad you made it out alive without getting hacked to death by the crazy hooker!!!

And it was cool to see a picture of you, too! :) (and a pic of your butt, too! ha!)

Knitty Kitty said...

great story... it's always nice to have those for when you are old and senile...

yournamehere said...

Brooke,
Great story. I've never been out of the country except for Canada near Niagra Falls. It was liter-free, but that's about it.

I'm still waiting for my brownie-covered boob pic.

Brandon said...

almost getting hacked up by window women along the canals. ahh! you bring back good memories, brooke!

now i'm off to have a tiny heinie!

Gordy said...

Great story..now I can see why you look so hot now, your were a hottie then too.

Now, how about a picture of that tattoo?

KJ said...

Good god... That has to be one of the best stories I've ever heard. The only kind of excitement you can get in Japan is running your keys along the paintwork of a Lexus belonging to the Yakuza in China Town, and then running for your life... But that wouldn't even compare to your experience.

Unknown said...

Wonderful heartwarming story, SMG. It's nice to know we have something else in common, both of us having made hookers mad enough to commit murder.

Melanie was here said...

I'm from Holland. Isn't that vierd?

Seriously, great story! Can't wait to read more....

Anonymous said...

Hey, I always say you're as old as you feel. And if you look half as good as you did back then you're doing fine.

Cactus Prick said...

I suspected you were a pimp!

Now we know....

Jaxe said...

You had me at "biker bar in Amsterdam" *swooooon* Hehe. Great story B!

Anonymous said...

OK! Girl it's time for therapy. Your imagination is even more twisted than mine. Should I be still concerned that this sounds like some stuff I've done.

Girl With An Alibi said...

I say again. I wasted my youth clearly I did. This is the first time in my life I've wanted reincarnation to be real. I need a second chance to come back as Brooke. Great story.

Scarlet Hip said...

MoMo - thanks! I'm glad I made it too!

KK - I've always said that these are the stories I'll share with the other old bats at the home.

YNH - you will have to settle for the partial tattooed-ass pic.

Brando - did you go to the Heinie factory?! Loved those tiny Heienies!

Gordy - I got the tattoo where I did so only certain people could see it. And that does not include the people of the internet!

Kallun - considering the kind of life you have lived, that is very high praise indeed. Thank you.

CBT - it was gross, we shared a room with a huge group of strangers, and the night I got the tattoo - as I tried to sleep in the bottom bunk of my bed - the man who was in the top bunk decided to make his bed - naked. Just try to imagine what I was looking at.

Scarlet Hip said...

JJ - I think I know what your next blog is going to be about.

Mel - I can't write anymore stories about my travels or you'll all think I'm a drunken slut. Wait a minute......

Bob - you always know just what to say!

Prick - you bet! I could probably get you a lot of work....

Jaxe - thank you! I'll have to come check out your blog!

Ruben - no imagining going on here. This was the real deal. I only wish I could remember everyting in detail.

Girl- fine, you come back as a drunken tattooed Jersey girl, and I'll come back as the girl marrying the wonderful hot man of her dreams. Sounds good to me!

Anonymous said...

'chased around the canal by a mohawked shop owner with a riding crop'...I thought I was the only one with this fantasy, I mean dream

you did get the tattoo on the butt, fantastic!

gP said...

Hola Brooke,

you have a cool blog, and this is not a spam. Found ur link from the CBT blog. nice story...keep up the good job.

egan said...

Now I know how to scare the living crap out of you. You better hope we don't meet in person some day.

Kidsis said...

Hey girl. Thanks for coming by my site. Sorry I've been MIA, but my current mood is also overwhelmed. Praying for a hooker with a machete. That could really solve some of my problems...

darth said...

best.adventure.ever.

my life seems pretty boring now :lol: but i brought you some tarte tatin.

Scarlet Hip said...

MQ - pervert. I did get chased a lot that night. It's amazing I lived to tell the tale.

Ghost - thanks! Look forward to checking out your stuff. Any friend of CBT's....

Egan - will you be getting a mohawk or becoming a prostitute?

KidSis - this too shall pass...

Darth - if it weren't for the fact that I knew you spent the week cooking, I'd have thought you were calling me a tart. Glad you're back and feeling better!

kris said...

Oh yeah. I bow down, as you clearly are an f'in rock star.

I think I might go out later and try to get chased/maimed/macheted by a DC hooker. I know it won't be the same, but I'm afraid of tattoo pain.

Knitty Kitty said...

random thing and thought of you...

viggo clip, very smart very anti-bush

Scarlet Hip said...

Kris - If I'm a rock star, how come I'm so poor?!?!

KK - now I not only lust him, I love him! Thank you!

Anonymous said...

Sorry I've neglected you of late. I've obviously been missing some good stuff. I'll keep this short so I can do some catching up.

BamaGirl said...

I enjoyed reading your story. You have to do crazy stuff like that when you are young. It's a memory to treasure when you start to get older and less wild. I don't know if that has happened to you yet! It's happened to me!!

Anonymous said...

Well, it's definitely happened to me too!

Let's all form a support group and call it Erstwhile Girls Gone Wild!

Very funny post, Brooke!

sirbarrett said...

What an introduction to your protective hosts!! I guess you got a first-hand exposure to the laws of the land. It's worth it to be gregarious as long as you don't get macheted. Good memories to look back on.

Shawn said...

That's an awesome story...I was really kind of expecting a metaphorical homicidal hooker.

Anonymous said...

Brooke, I'm just looking at this photo weeks after you published it. Are you the dark-haired one? Cause that's exactly how I pictured you!

Unknown said...

I just stumbled on this story when i googled Hanky Panky Tattoo. It was quite the entertaining tale. I have been in the States for twenty years, but seeing how I am from Amsterdam originally, and the Red Light District specifically, am a tattooer and have worked at that shop with Molly and Henk, made it all the more special. I worked there quite a few times on visits home. In two weeks I'll be back there and I'll make sure to ask Molly about you. He's quite a specimen isn't he? I don't know if you've been back since, but he is still in the Red Light District, but is now working at Tattoo Peter's, just down the road. Henk is now a major celebrity in Holland and a painter. He is no longer affiliated with the shop, now renamed Hanky Pankys Hangout.

Scarlet Hip said...

Igor - It was a loooong time ago, so I doubt Molly would remember me, but please show this to him! I'd love for him to see it. That night - and the next day - were one of the most memorable incidents during my backpacking adventures. I'm sure it was a typical night in the district for him.

Thanks so much for commenting. Please come back and let me know how your trip went!