Britsoc: The British Society of Amsterdam and the Netherlands. Serving the British Expat community since 1920.

No Sex in the City

No Sex in the City

Contributed by Carol Moore

So, after living for a number of years in Amsterdam, predominantly being single, I thought it high time to conquer the fears and go forth and meet the eligible bachelors of Amsterdam.  First step was to look at the ever-changing world of internet dating. What a minefield it can be out there! However, if you are fairly specific about what you do, and do not like, this helps greatly! Several winks, nods and likes later, I was pleased to see that I had received some equally in return. But do you spend time reading someone’s text or just plump for someone who “looks” nice to you with nothing written about themselves? I went for both, based on gut feeling. 75% I would say are a complete waste of time, but the remaining 25% – well there is something there!

Next step – date night! With the promise of a fun and interesting evening, I donned my (any) day best, which in Amsterdam basically consists of a “top and jeans” being your capsule wardrobe from weddings to workwear, and set off to meet the suitor! Tip. Always be clear on when and where you are meeting, as whilst sat waiting at the platform of the impending date’s incoming train, do not get distracted by looking at the latest tacky Facebook update and missing the call asking where are you at?!  Strolling down to (re)meet the guy in question filled me with a touch of hesitancy, the kind when you walk in the gym in your baggy ass clothes and see the general clientele consists of 18-year-old Baywatch candidates in super tight, sexy clothing and wanna walk straight back out. You feel as attractive as a wet dish cloth!

The greeting (of course 3 kisses, affectionately planted by an almost complete stranger) goes well and we move onto where to venture for a liquid refreshment. Said date asks if we should have a coffee first…are you absolutely out of your mind!!? I’m itching to get that first alcoholic beverage down my neck to calm the nerves – it’s not called Dutch courage for nothing!  After strolling past many watering holes that look “a bit too busy”, which in reality means I’m not overly familiar with them and seem way out of my comfort zone, we find a bar. Thankfully, the atmosphere is pretty good, it’s reasonably full, although there’s still some seats and tables vacant, and there’s a good level and type of music. So I go forth and conquer – well at least the seating arrangement…. Conversation flows a little like the fluitjes (also a first!) being consumed: steady, civilized and compact. Not sure if the date gets my humour, or whether there is a major lost in translation moment, but my mind starts to drift on what I’m having for dinner the following evening. A couple of hours pass and I decide it’s a reasonable time to finish the date off.

Conclusion: four fluitjes consumed, two and a bit hours spent quite pleasantly – i.e. didn’t feel the will to throw myself down the bar stairs, and hit the tequila! But unsure if I should to go for a second…