Wim and I got hammered at the Compagnie. The dark room was packed, and we were horny. “Want to go outside for a while?,” Wim shouted in my ear. He took my hand and we walked down the stairs. We took a stroll alongside the Amstel. “I know this alley up ahead. Let’s go there,” he suggested, breathless.
In the alley, he pulled down my jeans and greedily gave me a blowjob. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall.
For a period of time, I had a wild sexual relationship with Wim. He lived in a small flat near lesbian bar Café Sarijn, which at the time was exclusively for women. Wim taught me how to use poppers. He put some drops on a wad of absorbent cotton and put it in both of my nostrils. He repeated this for himself. The poppers quickly made us horny, and Wim became my passionate top.
Finally, finally, finally the day had arrived. I was to go to kindergarten for the very fist time. De Zilvermeeuwen in Zaandam. My mother took me there. She was nervous, but I was not. She gave me her hand. We walked from the Sparrenstraat to the Meidoornstraat and crossed the Troelstralaan. We arrived at a footbridge on the little river de Gouw.
My school was on the other side, and Miss Leeuwerink was waiting for us there. She took us to the coat hooks with a different name tag on each. Mine was a pixie on a mushroom. I had to remember that well. Some children cried a lot and held onto their mother tight. I saw my classroom and was ready to let go. It was my school after all, so I told my mother: “You can go home now, mother.” I was told later that she was crying on the way back.
Wim and I had sex a lot, and I got the hang of using poppers. Completely defenseless and horny I was lying close to him. He was a delightful guy and deliciously hairy. We were in each other’s arms, but I didn’t want to fall in love with him. I had a man waiting for me at home.
The classroom of kindergarten de Zilvermeeuwen was a playground. Miss Leeuwerink explained everything. A corner for drawing, for Lego and meccano. I could not believe my eyes. At home, I could not stop talking about school. “Shut up for a while. You sound like an alarm clock!” Well, that was hard. I had so much to tell. “Give Miss Leeuwerink a hand kiss and tell her it’s your father’s,” he said. Of course I did what my father told me. She had to laugh. During playtime I sang with her a song by the Selvera’s my grandmother in Anna Paulowna often played on the gramophone:
Heel veel jaren geleden op de diligence, / Reed trots en fier een knappe postiljon. / Amor lachte tevreden om zo’n keur van kansen, / Want menig hartje dat hij overwon // Ver over berg en dal, klonk er ’t hoorngeschal. / Steeds als een blij signaal voor allemaal. / Meisjes richten hun blikken naar de diligence, / Wie van hen won die knappe postiljon. // ’t Lief blozend blondje, dat trok hem aan. / Hij dorst ’t wagen, haar tot z’n vrouw te vragen. / Braaf gaf haar mondje toen te verstaan. / Dat zij met hem door ’t leven wilde gaan.
[Very many years ago on the diligence, / Rode proud and haughty a handsome postilion. / Amor laughed satisfied about such a choice of chances, / Because he conquered many hearts // Far over hill and dale sounded the bugles. / Always as a happy signal for all. / Girls directed their gazes to the diligence, / Which one of them would conquer the handsome postilion? // The sweetly blushing blond, she attracted him. / He dared to risk, to ask her to be his wife. / Obediently her mouth let know / that she wanted to share a life with him.]
Recently, I was in touch again with Wim through Facebook. We were reminiscing, and soon started talking about the alley. “You gave great blowjobs,” I said. Wim told me he was playing “Farmville” on Facebook every day for a couple of hours, a nice game to get a lot of international neighbors. They help you, and you help them. We had to laugh when Wim said: “There are some women from Texas I play it with. They found out through my profile that I was gay. They promised me they would pray for me every day.”