"Are you sure this is the right place, Dan?" I asked my boyfriend. We were wandering around the Red Light district of Amsterdam, and the streets all looked the same. There were sex shops everywhere, and prostitutes in the windows of the brothels. I punched Dan playfully on the arm when I caught him looking at a tall blonde in a black bra and thong.
"Yes, I am sure. The dude at the hostel told me that it was Achterburgwal 190-45. Ah, this is it!
Dan pointed to a dingy looking staircase leading down to a door. We descended the staircase to the basement level, and opened the creaky door.
A tall black man stood in front of a velvet rope. We paid him the 25 Euros to get in. (about 12 or 13 dollars.) He let us go behind the rope, and we sat at a table near the stage. There was absolutely nothing happening on the stage. We ordered some drinks; Dan had a Heineken, and I ordered a rum and Coke. There was no entertainment going on except for some porno movies playing on some screens on the walls. Some slow sexy trance music was being played on the cheap speakers, and every once in awhile the CD would skip.
I surveyed the scene. There where about ten single guys. Some were dressed nicely, in fine tailored suits, but most were in jeans and t-shirts. There were two other couples besides Dan and myself. The couples looked like they were in their thirties. Every one was staring at the stage, not sure when the show was expected to start.
I held hands with Dan, and he squeezed my hands, no doubt excited about the live sex show we where about to see. We chatted about our vacation so far, reminiscing about the wonderful French food we had dined on the night before. I remembered the wonderful consommé, and I could still taste the crème brulee in my mind. Dan let go of my hand and put it on my leg under the table.
"I am so excited about this, honey!" Dan whispered in my ear. "People having sex right on this stage for an audience, my God, they would never have that back in the U.S.!"
I was pretty excited too. I could not believe that people were about to fuck ten feet away from us. I tried to picture what the couple would look like. Would they be young or old? Would they look like professional porn stars, or just be average looking folks? Would there be any foreplay, or would they tear off each others clothing and just go at it right away? I didn't quite know what to expect, as I had never been to a sex show before. When Dan had brought up the idea of viewing a live sex show on our vacation in Amsterdam, I hadn't believed him. I thought he had been making the whole idea up. I knew that this was a liberal country, but I didn't believe that couples would really have the nerve to get up on stage and do something as private as having sex in front of a bunch of tourists.
I was very intrigued. I thought about what was going on in the performer's heads when they were on stage. Did they ever feel nervous? Did they get butterflies in there stomachs? Did they get stage fright? Talk about performance anxiety.
Evidently there was no waiter or waitress, so I got up and went to the bar. A tall man with sideburns and a top hat was bartending. He looked like someone out of the 1800s.
"Wat kan ik voor u krijgen te drinken?" He asked me in Dutch.
"Geen spreekt Nederlands." I told him. No speak Dutch.
He smiled, and said "American! Welcome. What you having to drink, please?"
I ordered a Rum and Coke for myself and a Heineken for Dan. He made my drink while smiling at me. He chatted a little. "You excited to see show tonight? You never see sex show before?"
I told him that I had never seen a sex show before.
"You like. Frans and Saskia are on the stage tonight."
"When does the show start?"
"At 10:00, if they show up."
I wasn't sure what I meant, and I asked him to clarify. He explained to me that Frans and Saskia where great performers, but they were not very reliable, and sometimes the show was canceled. He promised me that we would be refunded if this happened.
I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I paid the bartender for the drinks, and walked back to our table. It felt a little intimidating to look around the room and see only two other women. Many more guys had arrived; some where alone, and some where in groups. Some where dressed very sharply, but most of them were dressed very casually, in jeans and t-shirts.
The room had a strange combination of odors; coffee, cigarette smoke, and some very floral smelling incense. It was not unpleasant, just unusual. The furniture was totally mismatched; there were many different kinds of tables, and most of the chairs at each table where of a different design. Some where wood, some were metal, and there where even a few wicker chairs. The lights were dim, and there where many plants along the walls. The walls where all decorated with a striped red wallpaper that was starting to fade. The carpet was also red, and it was threadbare and stained with drinks in some parts. There were slow moving fans on the ceiling, along with a really nice chandelier.
I sat back down, and handed Dan his beer. I looked closely at the stage. It was right in the middle of the room. It was made of wood, and it was about two feet high. There were metal steps in one corner for the performers to ascend. The stage itself was painted black. There was a king sized bed in the middle, with four big fluffy pillows and a nice sheet with a floral design. There was a microphone at the edge of the stage. There was also an easy chair on the stage, along with a small coffee table and a small dresser. It looked like a strange combination of a living room and a bedroom, but all on a black stage with no walls. I was getting very curious about the show.
Dan kept looking at his watch, eager for the show to start. We nursed our drinks, and suddenly I noticed that it was 10:30 already, and the show hadn't started. People in the audience started muttering about the show being late. I was getting bored. I hoped that Frans and Saskia would show soon.
I went up to the bar again, and ordered another round. The bartender remembered me, and he quickly got the drinks. I asked him if the show was going to start soon.
"I am afraid not. Frans called in sick, and there will be no show, I am sorry. I was just about to tell room that show is not going on today."
I frowned, and asked him if there were other performers.
"Yes, we have three other couples for show sometimes. But they are all not here. Some are on vacation in France, some are having night off, and some are not answering phone when I call."
"So what happens now?" I asked him.
"Well, we cancel show and give all people money back in pockets. I feel very sorry, no show tonight. Unless…no, I think no show tonight."
I wondered what he had been about to say.
"Unless what?"
"What?" he said.
"You said 'unless' and then you stopped. Was there something you wanted to say?"
He suddenly looked very embarrassed for some reason.
"No, nothing, no show tonight."
I was going crazy. He had dangled some slim hope of the show possibly going on, and then not completed the sentence.
"What is your name?" I asked the strange bartender.
"Cornelis. And your name, madam?" he replied.
"I'm Miranda. Pleased to meet you, Cornelis. Now I know you were about to tell me some way for the show to go on, please finish what comes after 'unless.'"
Again he looked embarrassed. He turned so that his head was no longer facing me, and he said "A few times, no very many, times, people from audience, they…how you say…step up to plate and make show go on."
It sounded like he was suggesting that couples from the audience had volunteered to be the performers on a few occasions in the past, but I wasn't sure I understood him correctly. I made him clarify his statement. "Cornelis, are you saying that people from the audience have gone on stage and had sex when the regular performers didn't show up?"
He turned very red. He would not make eye contact with me. "Only three other times, usually no one from audience will go on stage. I was going to…no, there is no show tonight."
Cornelis was starting to piss me off. I wished he would complete his sentences.
"You where going to what?"
"I was going to ask…no, nothing."
"Ask what?" I said to him, with my hands on my hips. He was infuriating me now with his unfinished statements.