I know someone who, on his first trip to Amsterdam, was peer pressured into hiring true services of a lady in the canal region. It was thought this lad was a virgin and so he was almost forced into the window.

He spent a very long time in the Window and refused to answer questions about his encounter.

When pressed, it turned out that he went into the Window and cried for ten minutes and the girl hugged him, gave him a can of cola and sent him on his way once his eyes were less red.

That is the most pathetic prosser story I have ever heard.

"That was fun and to round off the day, I am off to steal a charity collection box and then desecrate a place of worship.” - Smokey, The Selhurst Arms, 26/02/02

There are plenty of 'pathetic' prossie stories out there matt. Probably the percentage is a lot higher than you'd think.
Here's two from my former line-manager (Gary):

Gary was on his first trip to the Dam. A man of the world at 25 and one of the boys, as he played rugby at a reasonable amateur level.
And so egged-on by his mates, a very drunk Gary, entered a shop window.
Money was exchanged, the curtains were pulled, and they started to undress. But Gary was so drunk, he fell asleep on the bed, as he took off his shoes.
After 15 minutes, the prossie managed to hit him awake and tried to get him out of her bedroom.
But Gary wanted his money back, and she wasn't giving in.
So Gary pulled the curtains open onto the street outside and began removing the rest of his clothing in a strip-tease like fashion, getting down to his pants.
The prossie, realising she was going to lose trade, thrust the money into his hand, pushed him out into the street and threw his clothes after him.

A few years later Gary is at home in Woking and orders an Escort girl. By the time she arrives at his house, Gary is mullered.
She askes what services he required, and he curled himself up on the sofa and said, "just give me a cuddle"
She waited until he was asleep and let herself out of the house.

encounters with prossies can be very stressful and many middle-aged men have had heart-attacks in mid-session

I disengage, I turn the page.

OK, in the light of 'newbies' calling for me to be red-carded in Palace Talk, I have decided to 'publish' the remaining 2 chapters immediately, so not to deny my readership the conclusion to my 'Chronicles'.

Chapter 7 - Going Oriental

An overnight (unauthorised) works do in,...Amshterdaam.
It must be around 2001 by now. I wanted to show my workmate (an ex-submariner), Martin, the sights of the Dam. We had bunked off for the afternoon to drive the company van to Luton airport, to get an Easyjet flight to Schhipol airport.

Amsterdam was about a 30 minute train ride from the airport.
As we walked down the streets, before even finding a meeting point/drinking hole, Martin was running up the steps into a ladies bedroom.
I was really pi$$ed off that Martin had done this, and left me outside, I was tempted to just leave him to find his own way back to the airport, because we hadn’t arranged a meeting point. To$$er.
So i had to wait in the street outside for him. 20 minutes later he emerged with a huge grin on his face. “That was FANTASTIC”
So we went to a watering hole. The Excalibur , as i remember, and shmoked some gear and had some beer. With lots of froth

Now we had a meeting place, we left to peruse the goods for sale in the nearby alleyways, and discovered two oriental girls in neighbouring windows, one dressed in black lingerie, the other in white lingerie.
It had to be the black lingerie.
And sure enough she was everything you’d dreamt of in a Thai lady, except this was defo a girl , and not some post-op mutant. I checked everything very carefully.
She was fit and tight and ever-so willing, with a slim , lithe body. My god, she even kissed me afterwards, which was very sensual. Again , she was on top (I am a bit lazy sometimes), and anyway, if i’m paying for something, surely it’s my choice.
I met with my workmate in the Excalibur afterwards, and we drank and scmmoked until it was time to get to the train to Schipol airport for the first morning flight home.
We drove straight from Luton airport to our next job in Hayes (West London).
Later in the day we met our boss for lunch in a nearby pub, and when Martin pulled out a load of Euro’s to pay for the drinks, I had to hold the boss back from causing a punch-up, as he raised his fists and shouted, “What the fck have you two cvnts done now !!?”

Just a word of warning about Amsterdam. You can really foock-up your trip if you don’t keep your wits about you. There are plenty of muggers, pick-pockets and chancers selling dodgy drugs.

Edited by Forest Hillbilly (28 Aug 2014 2.15pm)

I disengage, I turn the page.

If this doesn't come out in paperback I'll be gutted. It sh*ts all over Harry Potter (although apparently doing that costs extra).

gold thread potential forest , very funny , I reckon you should do a tv travelogue micky palin style

interviewer " iggy , do you think you influenced anybody?"
iggy pop " I think I wiped out the 60`S "

Around the World in 80 Lays?