Do I look like I give a fuck...? Dilligaf. U.S. Armed Forces Europe West Germany Battalion Hdqtrs. Roman gets pulled into the drug trade of the soft underbelly of the Amsterdam sex shows.
Do I look like I give a fuck...? Dilligaf. U.S. Armed Forces Europe West Germany Battalion Hdqtrs. Roman gets pulled into the drug trade of the soft underbelly of the Amsterdam sex shows.
S3 E2
“Open the glovebox, pack a bowl soldier.” Requested 1st Sgt. Hilyard, as he pushed a button on the audio system of the BMW 700 series and Marvin Gaye filled the plush interior of the high end German luxury auto. Roman turned his head to look at his superior in the hopes that his facial expression might clear up what he’d thought he’d heard obviously couldn’t be right… pack a bowl? Surely Sgt. Hilyard meant something else entirely.
But low and behold, Roman immediately saw the small item wrapped in foil next to a pipe Roman recognized as used to smoke weed or hashish.
Roman pulled the paraphernalia out and did as he was instructed, shaking his head as he pinched a tiny piece of the sticky, gummy, dark brown substance and rolled it between his forefinger and thumb making a little tar ball of the highly resonated and potent THC and packed the bowl for his first sergeant.
“I’m trying to do the right thing here Sarge… I joined the army to straighten myself out ya know… leave all of this (Roman gestured with the pipe) behind me and become a real buttoned-down soldier.”
“Not too worry son… we’ll gonna get you buttoned down good an tight, don’t cha worry bout that.” Hilyard replied with a smile.
He pulled the black BMW out of the army base main gate and gunned the car into the traffic headed into the city.
Hilyard passed the lit pipe back to Roman, “Go on… Soldier… try that shit out.”
Roman pulled lightly on the smoking pipe fully aware that the small amount of hash was ten times more potent than pot… but as the cannabis concentrate was pulled down into his lungs, it seemed to expand a hundred fold and Roman coughed like some novice never having smoked before.
Hilyard just grinned, “yeah boy… that’s the shee-it… for real.”
Roman, blinked as he exhaled and stared out the passenger window watching the cars and buildings of his new german hometown go by in a blur. Fuckin hell, he thought.
What a way to start his military service.
How’d you know? Roman asked.
Hilyard cocked his head and shot Roman a quick glance. He put his index finger on his face pointing at his eye. “A fisherman can always spot another fisherman.”
Roman nodded. “I haven’t been fishing in quite some time…”
“My boys seemed to think you was cool enuff…” Hilyard said, making reference to Roman’s room mates.
Roman shook his head recalling the day he first arrived at Rivers barracks, or the zoo, as it was known… he’d been assigned to an eight-man room in the old refurbished WW II barracks with seven brothers all from big cities like Harlem, Detroit and Chicago.
It wasn’t like it was his first experience being the minority or token white boy, Jr. High all over again.
The room was heavy with smoke from cigarettes and hashish, which they smoked non-stop it seemed, as they did each others hair, cornrows or combing out a afro while playing chess on the biggest board and pieces made from marble.
They invited him to play, which he did, and they beat him every time. They passed him their pipe and Roman took small puffs more out of respect than anything…
He really didn’t want to continue being just a pothead kid from Florida but he also didn’t want to get on the wrong side of his new roommates either… when in Rome, right.
As Hilyard navigated through the traffic headed across the city to another military base, he laid out what he wanted Roman to do, why he’d been handpicked for this assignment.
“We got a nice little thing goin here… everybody’s cool … we fly under the radar… do our duty protecting America and a little side hustle to compensate the shortfalls of Army pay.” Hilyard explained they had a small dope ring they operated on base dealing hash and needed a guy like me to replace someone who had just recently rotated back stateside.
Roman shook his head in disbelief, “Sarge, I don’t want any trouble… I’m trying to walk the straight and narrow… I just got out of a tight spot and ain’t lookin’ to get right in another one.”
“Perfectly fine soldier” said Hilyard… we aren’t looking to jam you up, as a matter of fact you’re exactly what we’re looking for… someone on the straight… no missteps ya know… no bad hombres… just a good looking straight-laced young man visiting the red light district of Amsterdam… just another good Christian getting’ his dick sucked, nothing to see here.”
Roman let out a big sigh of resignation, seemed it didn’t matter which way he turned… he was going to step in some shit no matter what.
Breaking down the numbers.
One pound of hashish is approx. 454 grams
One gram sells for $20 US dollars… that’s just over nine thousand dollars per pound.
A kilo of hash is 2.2 pounds. A plate of hash is equal to one kilo and will net eighteen thousand US dollars on the street… or the barracks as it were.
Roman’s cut was two thousand dollars… for every trip he made to Amsterdam.
Since Sergeant Hilyard oversaw Roman’s duties it was easy to be scheduled whenever the sarge needed him.
Roman would fine a plain white envelope laying on his bunk with a euro rail pass and bus tickets to Amsterdam, along with two hundred dollars, travelling money, sarge said.
He’d take the train from Giessen to Frankfurt which took about an hour… then get on a bus from Frankfurt to Cologne… change buses… then onto Dusseldorf change buses once more due to the sarge’s paranoid security concerns… but is it paranoia when they’re after you? Roman wondered. CID that is… Central Intelligence Division of the Army had been specifically tasked with ferreting out drug smugglers in their ranks and according to Hilyard had been sniffing around the zoo making inquiries.
Great Roman thought, just great.
Eventually arriving at the Amsterdam train depot subway; locate the sign for the Duivendrecht Station and ride the subway into Nieuwmarkt (the new market) where he’d disembark and stroll around like any other tourist… check out the Anne Frank Huis… drank black coffee, eat a freshly baked pastry and read about all the sights to visit.
Roman thought he’d better do a bit of recon before it got dark and look for any possible red flags as far as getting jammed up in there, so he walked the route to casa rosso from two different paths and noted escape routes “if needed”… back door of the theatre led to the ally that connected to a street that was adjacent to the next canal.
He was expected to meet Luuk at midnight.
Roman finished dinner and walked the shops afterwards, window shopping to see if he’d spot anyone paying him special attention or following his steps… noting nothing out of the norm he continued to stroll nonchalantly down to De Wallen, the largest and best known red light district to check out the live-sex shows at the Casa Rosso theatre on the Oudezijds Achterburgal Canal…. where the big elephant in pink neon glowed above the door. De Wallen is laid out like a labyrinth, with a network of alleys displaying prostitutes in windows illuminated by red lights.
The prostitutes themselves don’t look like the prostitutes you’d see hanging out on the corner of most large American cities or on tv. They aren’t too old, too young, or visibly on drugs. The majority of the prostitutes in Amsterdam are actually really attractive looking younger women, this is an legitimate profession and these girls take care of themselves just any actress or model on tv would.
Their tax paying citizens and treated just like any other profession or job.
Once Roman found Casa Rosso his stomach flip flopped and he felt a little uneasy about this whole arrangement. What if… kept running through his mind. What if Hilyard had just sent him on a fool’s errand to buy some drugs off some strange dude with no prior dealings… we’ll just have to see what the deal is when we get inside Roman thought… fuck it, I’m checking out the show no matter what, since I’m here.
The theatre seated between one hundred and two hundred folks on a good night….. down the street from THE Moulin Rouge… literally only blocks from the Royal Palace… don’t ya just love the dutch?
Roman walked thru the doors of the Casa Rosso and went to the bar and ordered a draft beer. He was supposed to ask for a guy named Luuk, blonde hair, ponytail, mid thirties… Hilyard scratched his chin when describing him and smiled… think big Lebowski and you’ll spot him right away.
A petite young woman with brown hair served his beer, she looked like a young Natalie Woods and Roman smiled politely at her and asked if there was a guy named Luuk around. Roman was about to say he was expecting him but she beat him to the punch.
“You must be Roman”, young Natalie said.
Somewhat shocked she knew his name Roman kept his composure and nodded.
Young Natalie stuck out her small hand and said, “I’m Sophie… very nice to meet you Roman. So you’ve come to check out the show?” Roman blushed not really sure why… it was afterall a live sex show theatre…
He just nods not yet able to meet her gaze.
“Luuk has reserved a table for you, come on let me show you your seat… the show will start in a few minutes and leads Roman through the already crowded theatre.
To Roman’s surprise she takes the seat next to his and continues her interrogation.
Where are you from?
What’s New York like? Have I been to Disney World?
Do I like the army?
Do I have a girlfriend back in the states? This went on until the lights dimmed and the music changed from bar/club disco to something more intimate.
A strikingly beautiful, woman repelled down from the pitch black ceiling in the spotlight wrapped up in silk sheets and lowered to the floor… there sat a single wooden chair. She was completely nude. Roman was mesmerized.
Another light beamed upon a similarly very handsome young man, also nude and bathed in light, the choreographed dance was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed before, and goddamn if it didn’t appear that they actually were doing the deed up on the stage, Roman couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Then he felt Sophie’s hand on his lap and practically jumped out of his chair, thank god it was dark in the seating area because he was sporting quite the hard on.
He turned and looked at her, apologizing for being so jumpy.
“It’s absolutely fine… I was just trying to get your attention… I believe you have something for me to give to Luuk…? She whispered in his ear. Roman found it hard to concentrate on what she was saying as he breathed in her essence being so close to him at the height of the climax of the show on stage. He didn’t know if he was about to come, laugh or bolt.
“Right… yes… yes, I do.” Roman stammered and dug into his jacket pocket for the envelope stuffed with cash and slid it under the table to Sophie. She smiled and nodded, I like you… very discreet. She bent over and kissed him on the cheek and left.
Roman sat there dazed at everything that had just taken place in such a small window of time unsure exactly what to do next. Did he just get robbed he wondered?
Wow. What a clever set up Roman thought. Get a guy all hot and bothered, keep him occupied with a little sex show, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, a little alcohol, some smoke and stroke his crotch… then whammo! Bye bye, thank you… I’ll take that.
Shit, what was he supposed to do now? The drink and the show had fogged up his brain. He slipped through the crowed theatre goers who were just as mesmerized as he had been and made his way back to the bar to look for young Natalie, or Sophie… if that was even her name.
There were several young, attractive women working behind the bar, but no Sophie.
Roman asked the bartenders where she was but only received another pint and a sweet smile.
Roman was about to make his way behind the bar and search for her in the back just as Luuk sat down next to him.
Roman recognized him immediately from Hilyard’s description.
How’s it going? Luuk asked. Roman eased back down into his stool and turned to him half expecting Luuk to say something like “Dude… or Man” But he didn’t. Luuk talked like any other normal drug dealing thirty something sex show club manager.
“You looked like you were about to jackrabbit outta here just now…” Luuk remarked.
“Well, I thought I’d been… it was just… wasn’t sure the protocol and didn’t know where… she… Sophie right? Where she went.” Roman finally got all the words out.
Relax, it’s all cool. Luuk said. We have our own way of doing things… Sophie handles some things and I others, he replied with a smile of perfectly lined white teeth and reminded Roman of that cat in Alice in wonderland… what was it’s fuckin name.
Ok… so…. Now what?” Roman asked.
“Now you drink up, all on the house, finish the show, enjoy your time and we’ll make the drop off in a couple of hours… you’re staying at the Stoofsteeg Hostel right?
Roman nodded. Ok, we’ll see you later and Luuk slid off his stool and disappeared into the darkened theatre.
About half past three in the morning there was a slight rap on the door to his room, Roman had been waiting on pins and needles for this sign , any sign that he hadn’t been ripped off. No doubt Hilyard would have a measured punishment for his inability to carry out this assignment.
To Roman’s great surprise upon opening the door, Sophie was standing there with a backpack slung over her shoulder and looking just as desirable as she had in the theatre.
She strolled in and sat the backpack down on the chair by the small table and said, here you are Mr. Roman… delivered as promised and looked into his eyes with a small thinly veiled smirk.
“Sorry, bout earlier… I didn’t know… I didn’t…” was all he got out before she was so close to him, he could feel her breathe on his face and when he looked into her eyes that’s all it took… Roman dove head first off that cliff into her fathomless depths and kissed her on the mouth, they fell onto his bed and wrestled their clothes off and spent the next few hours until dawn came through the window exploring each other’s bodies.
They had coffee in the café across the street and she gave him another long kiss goddbye… until next time? And disappeared in the throng of passerbys. Roman slipped the backpack over his shoulder and started walking to the subway station. The sky was cloudy and it looked like rain but he was smiling ear to ear, his world was sunshine and blue skies.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
End.
Roman rode the Amsterdam express for several months before his roommate, and close friend, was found dead one weekend from apparent alcohol poisoning. Roman took the blow hard.
It confounded Roman that someone so young and vibrant could just die all of a sudden from drinking. He had no idea that was a thing. He had always assumed that the brain or the body whatever would just shut down before allowing the level of alcohol reach such a toxic level… like a thermostat shutdown mechanism when a motor starts to overheat…. shutting down a motor before it blows up. But evidently the body isn’t as sophisticated as he thought it was.
Roman stayed in his barracks depressed at this new loss and smoked copious amounts of hash to deaden his pain… this was the remedy he knew to deal.
That is until he was assigned as duty driver one weekend and got the call that snapped him out of his mourning.
Roman we need you to get over to the PX building pronto his radio crackled, we’ve got a emergency at the rec hall… your needed to transport a soldier to the medic immediately.
Just great Roman thinks, everyone told him that being the weekend duty driver was no big deal, nothing ever happens and you never have to do anything , just be on base and basically that’s being on call… for the weekend. It’s a piece of cake. Don’t worry about it. Right.
So… Roman packed a bowl and settled down in front of community room tv to watch his favorite shows in German… it was hilarious to hear the folks on Green Acres speaking German, for some reason it just slayed him to see Zsa Zsa Gabor spreckin ze duetch!