“How do I know you love me? How do I know you aren’t just faking it, to take advantage of me?” a nervous voiced quivered. “This is Amsterdam and you probably think that we all just jump into bed with each other just for fun; but that’s not the case. Sex attaches you. Having sex with someone connects you, it even creates dependencies. Show me you love me first before …” the voiced trailed off; the man and woman in this animated conversation had crossed the bridge and were now out of ear shot.
I was on an old lift bridge, on one of the small canals in Amsterdam; I had walked aimlessly taking pictures and just breathing in the atmosphere, and somehow my feet ended up here where this little bit of human drama was taking place. I guess if you are totally detached from people around you, you could call it street theatre… but that would say more about you, than it would about what you saw.
This bridge attracted me because I saw clusters of knobby colours attached to the lift ropes; only when I got closer did I realize they were love locks. There were lots of every type with inscriptions like “M & E”, “Yas + Luke”, “Sophia & Francesco”. With all that weight, it was a wonder the bridge didn’t collapse already.
While I was reading some lovelock inscriptions, I heard the familiar voices from before… “A love lock by itself won’t do it.” the nervous voice said. “No, sweet heart,” a deeper, more assured voice replied, “a love lock by itself means nothing; and it means everything because it is something we do together. Write your name on it with this magic marker, and I’ll write mine. Also, write you name on your copy of the key, and I’ll do that to mine; then we will exchange.”
I couldn’t help myself when I heard these familiar voices, I had to look… inconspicuously; but I really couldn’t tell very much; they were bent over, very intent on their task. They both wore hats and one wore a skirt and the other shorts.
“By putting our lock on this bridge,” the assured voice said, “we are symbolically publishing our relationship. But there is still one more thing we have to do; we need to post a picture of it on our own face book pages, to let everyone know of our love… and in this way, I will prove my love for you is real.”
As they got up, and attached the lock to the bridge, I was taken aback; I was able to see them more clearly now and realized that they both looked much older than I had though; they both were in their early 80’s.
“You are so practical,” said the nervous voice, as she took hold of his arm; “Are you sure you’re not Dutch”.
Hello, Ted, this is my first visit to your website, and I really enjoyed it. I like how you describe the scene. Since I usually don’t have the chance to hear you at Shut up and Write, I was pleasantly surprised. Thank you for sharing my friend, I will surely become a regular. See you next Tuesday.