Dear Amsterdam,

 I have decided to forgive you for being so obnoxiously cute due to your amazing bookstores and delicious pastries. However, I am still having a difficult time juxtaposing your innocent girl-next-door good looks with your wild free love lifestyle. Not to mention the fact that I can't get a cappuccino without contracting a contact high, as you can't open a "coffee shop" door without drugging all people within a two kilometer radius.
This was convenient however when a group of tourists began vandalizing a section of the city. I simply walked over to the nearest coffee shop and opened the door. The ensuing cloud wafted out mellowing the crowd and bringing with it ensuing peace and a complete lack of ambition for trouble making.
 Another thing about you Amsterdam: you seem to suffer from major identity issues. Constant comments like "I don't do Christmas markets. I'm not Germany. I'm Amsterdam." or "I'm not Belgium. I don't do chocolate." I'm Amsterdam. I am tulips, pastries, pot, bicycles, cheese, and sex. A list that so happens to include five of my favorite things.
I also feel that placing that beautiful church in the center of the red light district seems a bit deceitful. Here I am, innocently walking over to get a photo of this magnificent building and the next thing I know I'm filing for bankruptcy and getting regular blood work to make sure the new antiviral meds aren't causing my liver to fail. I'm not one to make excuses, but I will say that I was confused by all the red light to which I am exceptionally sensitive and sometimes causes black outs and seizures during which time I am not responsible for my behavior. The very concept of the red light district is difficult for most Americans to comprehend. We like to keep our prostitutes in truck stop parking lots or on seedy street corners as is good and proper - the way God intended.
Basically what it comes down to Amsterdam is it's not you; it's the people you hang out with. You are amazing. Beautiful, cool, and laid back. But as intelligent and forward thinking as you are, with your average of three book stores per capita and people that spend as much time on bicycles as Americans do eating donuts, I just can't deal with your friends.
 Your reputation has attracted the most worthless and ignorant derelicts from all over the globe. While we may be participating in a sophisticated and clever conversation, it is distracting to be surrounded by a bunch of idiots from Boston or Minsk who think the fact they are smoking a bong makes them cool despite the vast lifetime of evidence to the contrary.
All this to say, I am sorry Amsterdam, but I think it is time for me to see other cities. Perhaps not as beautiful as you. . . Definitely not as beautiful as you. . . Well, anyway. . . Do you want to go out this weekend?

​A Dear John Letter To Amsterdam