The center of Amsterdam’s tourist area is beautifully tacky. Stores hawk sexy spandex versions of every costume a person could possibly want. I bought a condom with a blue mushroom shaped like a teapot on it. It was marked with a warning: not for insertion.
About a month before this video was shot the women who work in the red light district were protesting the continued closing of their windows. One of the signs said “Don’t Save Us, Save Our Windows.” According to Felicia Anna—a window worker who maintains Behind the Red Light District in both English and Dutch—the windows are a dutch sex worker’s best option for self-employment.
I found a window that would allow me to film and rented it for a few minutes. Apparently I have a thing for running around places dedicated to sex in my underwear, and more of a thing if the place in question might become extinct.
Then I took Mickey Mod back to my hotel room and we had sex together. I learned how difficult it is to operate a camera while receiving oral sex. I wrote him a check afterwards, from the Stoya Inc business account, to pay him for his performance and the release of rights so I could sell the scene.
(click the picture to watch the scene on TRENCHCOATx.com)
I put my clothes back on and wandered out in search of food.
Every time I got lost the narrow cobblestone streets returned me to the Oudekerksplein, similarly to how Las Vegas’s wide corridors always spit me out in the casino.
Every time I found myself back on the Oudekerksplein I saw the statue of Belle—dedicated to sex workers all over the world—and the Prostitution Information Centre, which was opened in 1994 by retired sex worker Mariska Majoor.
Every time, I was awed by how organized and political the women working in Amsterdam seem.
The PIC wasn’t open during my stay, but I did touch my fingertips to the door and think “Fuck yeah, self-employment.”