In Amsterdam the paid ladies room was labeled "DAMES". On the men's side there was a large woman taking Euros and admonishing the men "Only peen, no cubicle. Only you peen here."
I hope they got a discount for being in the standing-only section.Haarlem (not as exciting as the NYC 'hood, not a pimpmobile in sight) and go one street over from the A'dam -Noord sign there's one for A'dam West.
Holy Dutch street signs, Batman!
On the first flight I sat on a plate of tomatoes and buttered rolls that had ended up on my seat, most likely with the help of a small person.
On the second flight I ended up wearing the complimentary champagne glass of highly pulped orange juice, definitely with the help of Thomas. This is before the plane even started to make it way over to the runway. I am sure this made a fabulous impression upon the flight attendants, all of them tall, blonde and beautiful Dutch women who likely posed for cocoa containers as children. They were extremely kind to me, as one would be to someone with limited intelligence and resources.
I also managed to slip on a plastic-wrapped life jacket on the floor, tried to catch myself on the armrest, which opened and summarily dumped me on the floor. I got a bruise out of it, but Mike had a good laugh. You know, the kind where you have your hands over your mouth and are trying to apologize for laughing as you howl.
Lastly, it has been interesting to try to post on Blogspot here, because the header task bar has mysteriously been converted to Arabic (pretty sure I flagged the blog as obscene trying to figure out which one said "new post") and the spellcheck is British rather than American-spelling based.
Grey coloured favourite tea cosy. See what I mean?