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About Amsterdam

Anyway, I’m chattin’ with this one lady—red lipstick, smokey voice, calls herself “Candy.” I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “Is this chick for real?” She’s quotin’ prices like she’s sellin’ me a used Chevy. “Fifty bucks, Joe, and I’ll rock yer world!” I’m like, c’mon, man, I ain’t that green! Made me mad, tho—folks tryna hustle ya, takin’ advantage. But then she winks, and I’m crackin’ up—girl’s got charm, gotta give her that. “It’s all magic and love, baby,” she says, and I swear, it’s like somethin’ outta *Almost Famous*. I’m half expectin’ her to pull out a guitar and sing “Fever Dog.”

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I wake up in my cozy little flat on de Kade, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.