Sex, get over it

Sex, get over it

Sex in the Netherlands is, frankly, annoying. Everyone thinks we’re over here having sex all the time. In my experience, it ain’t so.

What’s nice is that the Dutch treat sex as a natural part of life. When I moved here in the 90’s, I remember there was a Safe Sex outdoor campaign on posters and billboards. Since the subject was sex, the poster showed a naked couple - about to have sex. The image was the woman kneeling on her bed, topless. Standing in front of her is a big, black dude. He’s wearing nothing. With one hand, she’s about ready to take off her panties, and with the other she’s holding up a condom, saying ‘Doe jij iets aan, doe ik iets uit.’ ‘If you put something on, I’ll take something off.’ To me, it was the perfect way of saying ‘You’re not in America anymore.’ Granted, there is more and more sexually explicit imagery in America. And sometimes, there’s even a little nudity. But both sexuality and nudity, combined with a black guy in that white girl’s bedroom, would probably have most Americans calling the police.

And it’s not just Americans. I was once hired by a Polish event organizer to do some standup for a corporate gig. She arranged the event at a posh hotel on Dam Square, which is also right next to the Red Light District. The instructions were clear: yes, you can talk to the audience, but don’t mention the Red Light District. I asked the mostly male audience, ‘What you want to talk about?’ Unanimously, they answered, ‘The Red Light District!’ So – before I went on to talk about bikes and tulips – I did a couple jokes mentioning the Red Light District. The organizer went beserk. She flung herself into the tech booth in back, trying to wave me offstage – rather like a mother hen whose eggs had just been stolen. Eventually, they cut my mic. Afterward, she was apoplectic: ‘You have killed a part of me... I cannot believe you said those words… A part of me has died tonight.’ I hope she didn’t see that AIDS poster.

The Red Light District has been described as an adult-themed outdoor amusement park. And – like most amusement parks – if you’ve been through it once, you pretty much get it. Every time I’m hosting people from back in the States, they want to see the women in windows, the sex shops… and more than once I’ve taken guests to the live sex show. The live sex show: Bad Porn Live. To be fair, it’s less porn & more stage show. The partners are introduced like figure skaters: ‘Let’s hear it for Tony & Sabrina!’ Like figure skaters, they have their chosen music and choreography – with many of the same poses figure skaters use. Except these guys go all the way.

The most interesting thing I ever witnessed at the live sex show was the moment they got an audience volunteer they weren’t expecting. We were there with a group, mostly Americans and some internationals. There’s a moment in the show when one of the couples asks for a volunteer, as a joke. But one of the women from our group stood up and said ‘Yeah!’ And sure enough, she got up onstage, got down on her knees and started going to work. I couldn’t tell who was more mortified – the performers onstage or the group of Americans who – as it turned out - would never talk to her again.

By now, I’ve come up with a solution for my out-of-town guests: the sauna. The Dutch co-ed, naked sauna. It satisfies their need for nudity, and it’s good for your skin. Also, it’s 100% Dutch Culture shock in a nutshell. The first person who took me to the Dutch sauna was my Dutch boss. And she was very upfront about it. She said, ‘This is the sauna, these are my tits, now everyone relax.’

I still remember my telling my brother we were going to the Dutch sauna. He said, ‘Oh no, I didn’t bring my swimsuit.’ That’s how we do it in the States. I told him, ‘No problem. All you need is a towel.’ But then in the locker room he was nervous. ‘How can there be women in locker room?’ That’s the deal. You get undressed, they get undressed. And then he started enjoying himself: ‘I’m going to see real naked ladies.’

But quickly there were so many naked females it was overwhelming. So many styles of pubic hair: The triangle, the stripe. The angry spider. Quickly he realized it’s all kinds of naked people. Men, women. Young, old. Skinny, fat. Tattoos, appendectomy scars, and how often do you get to see Grandma naked? It’s the real deal.

But for my brother, the real surprise was not the women. It was the men. He said, ‘I’ve never seen so many penises before.’ It was the length, but also the girth. The ones that grow and the ones for show. And the foreskins. Because – when you’re from America, Not a lot of foreskins. ‘Congratulations it’s a boy’ & snip snip. You’re an honorary Jew.’ In America, we’ve heard of foreskins. We just never get to see a lot of them.
They’re all kind of like fashion statement turtleneck sweaters. And there’s such a variety! Some are form-fitting turtlenecks. Some are a little snug. Some are hand knit by Grandma. With a slurfje. Grandma just kept on knitting.

I do appreciate that the sex industry is good business for the Netherlands. I’ve even had the pleasure of performing for one of their trade shows. Well, almost. Boom Chicago theater was hired to perform at an event called Europerve. Latex, leather & PVC.

‘Think Kink.’
There was a runway and a fashion show for all the naughty garments. And then there was a duo act worthy of the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow. These people had so many piercings in their genitalia that they were able to combine magic, juggling, and magnets.

Unfortunately, there were 2 shows that night, and I was designated for the other one. But I didn’t want to miss my colleagues in latex. I was given a ticket if I wanted to come later, just to see the spectacle. But it was a theme party, and I needed a costume. And so - like Cinderella going to the ball - I found my fairy godmother in the form of Frank the house manager. The man is an artist. Using the theme ‘perve,’ he looked around the theater for inspiration. Instead of a pumpkin, he found some plastic flowers and a plastic cactus. The plastic cactus was the size of a squat basketball. He said, ‘This is your costume.’ He cut out a hole for my face to stick through, and he placed the cactus ball over my head. He took the cut-out remainder and made it into a codpiece, which I strapped on to my loins. The finishing piece was nothing but some sandals and a cape. To this day, I will think of myself as the belle of the Europerve ball.