Fourth of July

As the astute thinker may have anticipated, the Fourth of July is not important in Amsterdam, or even anywhere else in Holland.  I celebrated America's birthday in several ways.  Aside from putting in a full day working, getting tape off of things, you know...

I ate multiple stroopwafels in rapid succession.  Pictured below in action.

I went to the train station, where I reserved train tickets to and from Paris.  France - alternately the US's friend (see Revolutionary War) and foe (see Freedom Fries).  I had called in earlier and reserved them, and so had to go and retrieve them.  Easier said than done.

I had to take a number and wait in the queue.  My number was C 966.  

They were on C 924.  *sigh*

So I sat and waited.  Some smarmy-looking man tried to jump the queue.  I though, "If you even try to jump this line, which I have been patiently waiting in for over thirty minutes..." and he took a big bill out of his pocket, like he was going to attempt to bribe the guy at the counter, "If you even try it, I will knock you down.  Happy Fourth of July."  Luckily for all involved, the eye-daggers I was shooting at him were enough, and he moved away in terror, taking a number and moving to the end of the queue.

Louise and I decided to celebrate with some Magnums.

Nothing says Happy Birthday America like chocolate covered ice cream on a stick.

They are stamped with the letter M!

Then we headed to one of our friendly neighborhood bars, which have all been made more friendly as of July 1st.  Smoking is no longer permitted inside restaurants/bars in the whole of the Netherlands!  Loads of people smoke, so we were actually some of the few people inside the bar.  If only Pennsylvania would get its act together about the smoking laws...

Yankee-doodle-rific.

A lovely summer night.