I love reading spicy stories, but alas, my stories are never as spicy as one would imagine. Here’s my spicy story of one night in Amsterdam: One night, my best friend, Kim, and I were sitting at the Josephine Baker Bar in Amsterdam, when we decided we would find lovers. We were talking to some cute boys, and they told us to meet them later at a bar called The Watering Hole. So we were wandering the streets, dazzled and intoxicated by all the wonder that is Amsterdam, and every time we met adorable boys, we told them to meet us later at the Watering Hole. We walked and walked, and feeling a little weary, we finally sat down on a curb to look at the curved bridges and the canals swaying with glimmering lights, like we were sitting in a fairy tale town. Suddenly, our fairy tale took a dark turn as a bicycle whizzed by us, nearly running over us. Surprised, we scooted closer together, as two more cyclists whizzed by with sharp comments in a language we didn’t understand. We discussed how rude these riders were as it seemed they were almost TRYING to run over us. Finally, we stood up and realized we were sitting in a bike lane. We look at each other, our eyes huge, and shouted apologies to the rude riders, but they were long gone. We laughed all the way to the Watering Hole, where we were delighted to see our very own parade of darling boys. But when they saw each other, and realized they were all there to meet us, they all left! This made us laugh even harder as once again we headed back to our rooms by ourselves. Our spicy adventures never seemed to quite work out, but we didn’t care, we had each other, and that was the best spicy fairy tale of all. We put our arms around each other and skipped back to our room, careful to stay out of the bike lane.
