We were on a mission. There was a dance that night in the middle of the Amsterdam for America, Holland, Brazil, Congo, Spain, France, England,Ireland, Sweden, Switzerland, and a few other countries. It was a big end of our trip dance that all athletes from the American soccer team were invited to, so I had to find something wear.
I wanted a black silk halter top to match the rest of the outfit that I already had. So the search began with only two and a half hours on the clock. The streets were congested with teeny cars and rude bicyclers.
We were on the out skirts of the red light district, and you could tell we werent in the red light district because the streets were cleaner and no one real creepy hung in the alley ways. The sidewalks were also mobbed with people all going one direction. But, being the tourists that we were we were headed in the other direction making it almost impossible to get around.
We arrived to the first store. The stores exterior was maroon and red tulips were bursting out of their window boxes under the top windows. A sign hung above the door in block letters reading ‘Wonder Woman.’ It was overflowing with skimpy clothing, but that didn’t seem unusual because thats the type of clothing they wore in Amsterdam, even the 40 year old women.
We didn’t find anything worth spending our euros on, so we went back to the zoo they call a sidewalk, and the search continued with two hours left. The edges of sidewalks and the buildings exterior walls were covered with bikes and flower boxes overflowed with tulips that were cherry, peach, amber, emerald, turquoise, lavender, and blush colored. We went to the next store where red lighted bubble letters draped above the store top windows reading HM.
It, like many other stores, didn’t have doors to get in inside just a big open gap were people strolled in and out. The clothes were like the other stores we visited, so we took a look around for a minute and left. There weren’t any halter tops or tanks tops just short dresses and shoes.
When we left we ran smack into the middle of a parade full of drummers and African-European dancers in silk beige mini skirts and bikini-like tops that matched the bottoms. Running away as fast as possible wasn’t enough to escape our embarrassment. Laughing at our stupidity and praying this store would have everything we wanted since there was only about thirty minutes left we stumbled into the next store named Olly.
It was next to Haagen Dazs which made the savory scent of warm vanilla and chocolate lingered in through the paper thin walls making it hard to concentrate on getting something to wear. Moping around the store in disappointment looking for the silk black halter top that I was sure they wouldn’t have I ran into a rack of black shirts. Sifting through them wasn’t fast enough I only had five minutes left until the bus would show up and my hopes of finding the perfect shirt for the perfect night were about to be destroyed.
I saw it, the last one on the rack. Sitting there almost smiling at me I grabbed it. It was the silk black halter top I was looking for. I didn’t let go until we were on the huge azure colored bus. I took a sigh of relief because the mission had been completed. I got a lot of compliments on my shirt and it turned out to be the best dance I’ve ever attend, but i definitely never plan to go shopping in Amsterdam again.
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