This is a short story about an adult male British guy called Josh. The story is set in Amsterdam in The Netherlands. The author is an adult and there are no children involved in this story; the story does not involve kidnapping or blackmail. The story does not involve murder or suicide. This is a stand alone story. You can use my email address florus@post.com and I accept the nifty.org terms.
There is no sex in this story. Just casual flirting and smoking weed. Any resemblance to actual activities, real persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. I welcome feedback on my story.
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Now that he was finally out of that boring security job in Southampton, England, Josh was ready to let loose and party hard in Amsterdam. It was a short hop from England to Amsterdam and that meant no more 8am to 7pm work for a few days. Covid might have put a damper on his plans for so long but he wasn't gonna let anything stop him from getting a taste of the good life as a free man.
Stepping off the plane at Schiphol Airport Josh could feel his excitement building. He quickly checked into a budget hostel in the heart of the city and was ready to let the good times roll. The place might have been a bit basic but it didn't matter and Josh did feel like acting sleazy. He was here to have some fun. When he saw the tall, blonde receptionist with a haircut sharp enough to cut glass his heart skipped a beat. Josh couldn't resist flirting shamelessly with the Dutch guy, even though he knew it might not be the best idea. Josh was feeling bold and adventurous and the receptionist seemed to be enjoying the attention. They chatted for a while, exchanging flirtatious glances and innuendos. Josh was getting more and more worked up by the minute with his desire for the receptionist growing stronger. He knew he should stop but he just couldn't help himself.
Josh finally pulled himself away from the tantalizing receptionist, snatched up his brown leather messenger bag and hit the gritty streets of the city. Strolling alongside the canals, he couldn't help but admire the vintage buildings and the flashy crowds of visitors. His jaw dropped in awe at the vibrant alluring guys scattered throughout the Amsterdam scenery. Josh hadn't seen so many good looking, real tall guys in a long time.
Amsterdam was in full bloom, like a party at its prime. Josh sauntered down the cobblestone roads, swept up in the rhythm of the City. The air was crisp and the light cool, like a breath of Spring and a small coffee shop caught his eye perched on the edge of the Prinsengracht, a canal at the heart of the City. The sign above read 'Van Gogh's Coffee House.' Without missing a beat, he walked into a small lobby with the swagger of a man on a mission. Josh caught a glimpse of himself in a full length mirror set into a door.
Josh looked at his own image for a moment. He normally towered over most people at six feet and six inches but he always felt small and insignificant inside. He hated his job that played on his height and made him the bad-guy to most people. Booze hadn't been the answer to his problems. A messy divorce from a twisted wife saw her accusing him of being gay and cheating on her with a man. It wasn't true although Josh wasn't sure of his own sexuality. He always felt attracted to both men and women but he never acted on his feelings for men. He was afraid of what people would think of him, especially his conservative parents.
He always wore plain t-shirts and jeans, trying to blend in and avoid attention. Josh didn't think he deserved anything better.. The reflection in the mirror confirmed what Josh thought of himself. Josh always thought he looked like a dumb ox and not up to much. The scent of freshly roasted coffee beans filled the air mingled with the sweet aroma of baked goods. A potpourri of smells stirred him to life promising a sensory delight. The coffee mixed with other aromas. He looked with pleasure at the tempting arrangements of cakes and cookies that were laid out sky-high on a glass display.
The lighting inside the shop was dim, giving the room a cosy feel. Soft light bulbs cast a warm glow and classical music lulled the patrons into a peaceful trance. He observed several customers around him lost in their own world enjoying their coffee. The reality of their surroundings seemed far removed from the cacophony of the airport.
The walls were adorned with Van Gogh's bright, bold paintings. Every brushstroke captured the potency of color and every hue connected to the senses building a fantastic vibe. The walls acted like a cathedral with every painting linking together to create a harmonious music-like experience.
The baristas worked with agility, hustling back and forth across the counter with genuine smiling faces. The Coffee House drew customers from all walks of life from hipsters to businesspeople to students seeking a coffee break.
Josh shuffled along quietly in the way British people do when they wished they were invisible before collapsing onto a bench at the back of the shop. Taking a deep drag of his first joint. He enjoyed the smoke letting his cares evaporate. As he sipped his coffee and took in the atmosphere it was clear that this coffee shop was going to be his home in the days he was in Amsterdam. His eyes fell on a dark blonde man seated across the room engrossed with his phone. His hair was flicked to the right while blue eyes nervously scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. He wore a black leather jacket over a tight white t-shirt that hugged his slim but muscular frame. The jeans were by Marco Pescarolo, faded and ripped, revealing a hint of his tan skin. This was a guy with trust fund money behind him. He was 19, but looked more experienced with a smile that could charm anyone.
He was an intriguing figure to Josh. As captivating as the bar's rainbow vibe. Josh felt a stir of attraction as he tried not to be caught looking. He wondered what the guy's name was, what he was looking for and where he came from. After chatting with the receptionist back at the hostel Josh felt alive and ready to party.
His gaze met the blonde man's and a spark flew between them that couldn't be denied. It was alright to be caught looking and he liked the feeling. They nodded and smiled at each other in a coy sort of way. A whirlwind of mutual attraction stirred them. The time seemed ripe for them to speak but they were both weighed down by shyness and trapped in an awkward cocoon.
The two of them kept exchanging looks and modest smiles, the heat between them spiralling. Jan, the blonde man from the US, wanted nothing more than to break the ice but he had his own demons to battle. Josh had already played all his chips but hoped he could drink in more of Jan's magnetism. Darkness set in as they continued looking at each across the room, lost in the moment's magic. Josh hated himself for his inactivity and just couldn't understand why he could flirt with the receptionist and now he was struck mute and socially awkward.
Suddenly, Josh's phone chimed. The hostel where he was staying texted him to come back urgently. Something about a problem with Josh's post Brexit passport and being able to register at the hostel. It didn't make sense but Josh thought he better deal with the issue before it ruined his vacation. Josh caught his breath, struggling to reconcile the unexpected intrusion with his desire to stay back and talk to Jan. He started packing his messenger bag with his cell phone. His mind was a kaleidoscope of mixed emotions. He feared he might never meet Jan again, that their feverish connection would evaporate like a mirage. He turned around one last time hoping against hope that Jan would stop him and ask for his name or even offer his number. Nothing happened. Jan only offered a wave goodbye leaving Josh with an empty feeling in his heart.
Jan felt the same, heartbroken to see Josh leave. He was studying abroad and had come to the bar for a good time. He similarly wished for Josh's name or number feeling embalmed by the sadness of the moment.
Both men carried the weight of a missed opportunity. The regret was palpable, haunting the spaces of the bar. For a moment they caught a glimpse of each other and it seemed like destiny but fate is a fickle mistress and both men, bound by their fears, found themselves stranded in the silence of a missed connection.
As Josh left the bar and went back into the street he hoped that he would meet Jan again someday. He prayed that somehow life would bring them back into each other's orbits but true to form fate remained silent.