“I can’t wait!” Brianda shouted out with glee, waiting in the boarding queue for the flight to Amsterdam.
“I know, it’s gonna be amazing!” Lukie chirped in.
“Can’t wait to get absolutely pissed!” Markessa smiled.
“Good afternoon, passengers,” the pilot spoke over the intercom. “This is British Airways flight 471 from Femchester to Amsterdam,” she continued, rattling off all the requisite safety information. The three melles were barely listening. All they could think about was what awaited them: a crazy hen party. They’d spent months planning this trip. The three looked at each other and grabbed their water bottles in unison.
As the passengers deplaned, Brianda, Lukie and Kessa rushed off the plane with no regard for the stewardelles in their pretty uniforms and straight for the customs line. Each of them pulled out their passports, stamped with United Queendom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and prepared to present them to the officials at the end of the line.
“Hey ladies,” a gal barked at them from behind. Kessa turned around a bit, recognizing her from the flight. She looked to be about the same age, dressed simply in a red shirt and shorts, her arms crossed over her chest. It was clear she was sizing him up like a piece of meat. “You excited to be in the ‘Dam?”
Before he had a chance to reply, her friend chimed in. “Can I take your puppy to the kennel?”
Lukie and Brianda cringed, eyeing them in frustration. “I wish those gals would stop trying to get so wet about us,” Lukie sighed. Customs was a breeze, and the three walked out and made their way through busy Schiphol to the baggage claim, where Brianda rounded up their bags.
On the train into the city centre, the three settled down. There wasn’t much to do but wait, so they looked around and took in all the sights. They noticed a few fems ogling them, too, which made sense: their clothes clearly screamed “tourist traveler”. Since they didn’t want to ruin their good clothes by wearing them on the plane, they’d gone for simple but attractive options: Brianda a turquoise crop top with black leggings, Kessa a white Chloe Klein T-shirt with River Island blue jeans, and Lukie a V-neck tank top that showed off his chest and skinny jeans that accentuated his rear end.
“You know, we still have to walk, like, 20 minutes once we get off the train,” Brianda advised.
“Oh gosh,” Kessa sighed. “Why couldn’t we have found something closer?”
“There weren’t many cheap places near the train station,” he explained.
“Who cares? We’re in Amsterdam!” Lukie protested.
“Whoooo!” the three melles screamed.
“Please, mind your manners, ladies,” a polite old Dutch man piped up.
After a couple of minutes the clean train finally reached its destination, Amsterdam. The melles sped through the train station and emerged into the bustling city centre. The city was dominated with people and bikes, lots of bikes.
“Come on! Let’s get to the hotel,” Brianda pleaded.
“Do you want me to put the address into Google Maps?” Kessa enquired.
“Yeah,” Brianda softly replied.
Kessa put the address into his phone, and Google said it was approximately a 15 minute walk from the station. “Ugh, this sucks.” Reluctantly, they walked through the city centre. It was a hot day, and they were constantly passed by people cycling around. “Lucky them… They don’t have to spend all this time in… This,” he added, fanning himself. The city was busy, and it was thoroughly permeated with a smoky odour: car fumes, cigarette smoke, weed smoke.
“My feet hurt,” Lukie sighed as the trio approached the hotel. “All that walking.”
Co written By Samantha