Stalkward

Today I was spontaneous

(Yesterday I went to a library, two very opposite Kevin’s)

I had planned to hit up a number of museums and maybe even a bar trip with my friend Pete, fortunately he woke up sick.

Yes, I mean fortunately (sorry Pete I really hope you feel better), because otherwise I would not have had the day I did, nor would I have had my best idea since being on locale.

Upset at the loss of the prospect of doing some touring today, I reluctantly googled a nice café in which to spend my day reading.  Not even working on my project, the day had “bad IF student” written all over it.  I made it to the ferry and had a coffee at the dock-side café before getting on the boat.  When I got off the boat, however, things seemed different: the pavement felt slightly downhill, the bike (my automatic mood-booster) was riding a bit smoother, and, surrounded by other cyclists, I decided on a new route: wherever the people in front of me go.  I call my new game “Dutch Mafia.”

The rules of Dutch Mafia are simple enough:

-          Pick a bike and follow it until it stops

-          Do not follow a rental bike, as they are most likely tourists too

-          If a group splits up, follow the one going down a street you don’t recognize

-          If it stops at a house or office, keep riding until you find a new mark

-          If it stops at a shop, bar, or restaurant, go inside

-          Always go down side streets

-          If you get made, make a friend

-          Bonus points for keeping up with a scooter

-          Negative points for following a horse (should be obvious)

Essentially the game is a combination of people watching, community exploration, and my other favorite game, “American or European” (but that’s usually exclusive to loud, UGGs-clad girls falling on each other in Leidseplein)

The first few marks ended uneventfully, in a random neighborhood and then in the Red Light District, the mark meeting with his friend.  I think he made me because he ducked around a crowd and looked back at me, but no matter.   The third was the best, having followed her through an unknown neighborhood, I ended up on a familiar street at a bookstore I had not yet recognized.  That was the beauty in the game.  I might end up in a place where I had been before, but I was visiting it in a different way.  The game makes things so spontaneous that even normal and known occurrences are special.

Once inside the bookstore I attempted my hand at flipping through the Dutch books, only to resign myself to the English section.  I found my apartment in a book about “Dutch Architecture” …beautiful as my apartment is, the building itself is not so much.  It looks like a concrete McDonald’s play place which had no business in the same book amongst the Taj-Mahal-and-Sears-Tower-esque of other buildings and structures in Amsterdam.

The next mark didn’t last long, but the yield was exponential.  Two blocks from the bookstore we landed at a pancake house where the mark worked.  Now, the good and bad of this spot; First the good:

A.    I’m pretty sure it’s the same pancake house my cousin Jill mentioned to me just last night (as it is near the Anne Frank House)

B.     The pancakes were amazing. They are the thickness of a crepe, mixed with meats like some sort of batter-omelet the size of a bar pizza.  I got mine with chicken and a glass of baileys. an excellent choice. The pancakes go down rather easily, but be warned, they hit hard.  I could do more than one more often than once, but I don’t think InterFuture wants to pay for another seat on my flight home.

The bad, however:  While it appeared as a hole in the wall with a small, painted marquis advertising “Pancake House: The Best In Town,” it was a bit of a tourist trap,as evidenced by the Brittney Spears being pumped through the speakers and the girls exiting to “Those were literally amazing”…oh were they? ‘LITERALLY?’

…Fall in a canal.

Anyway, being alone, the hostess asked me if I would mind sharing a large table with another party…of course not, I’ve been stalking people all morning.  Radically open is the name of the game (that would be a good name, actually, come to think of it).  Sitting with another group was an opportunity I expected to offer the chance to speak with other travelers (as many in the shop were speaking English, including the 6-year-old playing with an ipad…really?), but my particular table-guests were not even speaking to one another, let alone me.  The majority of their wait was spent on iphones, stopping only to discuss the actions of said device.  I people watched and read.

The remainder of my day took me deeper and deeper into the western part of the city, doubling back along the waterfront and tram-tracks that I take to baseball stadiums.  None were particularly entertaining after the pancake house, though all took me into areas I was unfamiliar with and that was the point.  While not out of the ordinary, the remaining few offered quite the chase.  I think the most fun were the ones who ran red lights, which were numerous.  My choice was hold the tail or be hit by a tram (we've been over the transit hierarchy).  I avoided both.

Having lost my final contact after chasing a commuter from Centraal Station to the East I turned into and wandered through a park.  I had lost focus, but I considered my day: these people would never know that they had been followed all day, what if I had been followed too?  What if InterFuture had people on the ground responsible for following me day to day to research me? Sure there was Rick, but what about someone I didn't know, someone I couldn't ever make?  Fortunately I didn’t have Ashlee riding on the back of my bike sending me into a building and embarrassing myself in front of this stranger.