p. 174

This is an excerpt from my yet-t0-be-penned autobiography, due out in 50 years or so. If the book were on a 200 page timeframe, the following covers what I anticipate will hit page 174.
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so he handed me the map and said, "Fine. You decide where we're going." I was so tired. My feet were aching after trudging around in Rome's spring rain and I had a bit of a headache left over from too much fun at Vincenzo's restaurant. We had no idea we'd close up shop last night after, oh, about four bottles of wine and probably twice as many plates of food. Boy, the Italians sure do know how to eat.

I couldn't believe Vencenzo had stayed in touch with us after all those years. He was so nice to guide us around Italy when we made our first trip. It was our Honeymoon. I had some kind of thing for Italy so we decided to make the trip after the wedding. Years later, it looked just like I remembered it. Unfortunately these old bones couldn't quite keep up the way they used to.

I looked at the map and made an executive decision: We'd head off to Amsterdam. We loved riding the rails and hadn't been to Holland in years, I guess it was that one time we took the kids and they ran off one night to smoke some pot in the Red Light District. I have to admit, they come by their adventurous flair naturally.

***
There we were, sitting in the hotel room when they stumbled in singing some French song they learned in the hash bar. The noise woke my sleepy eyes, I think the clock said something like 2:30 Amsterdam time. We had gone to bed early because we had a big meeting at the Embassy the next morning, so needless to say there was lots of yelling as soon as we realized just where the kids had been. Sure, they legalized marijuana something like 10 years before, but as parents (and I guess growing up so conservatively) we weren't big proponents of the new law.
I guess it's true what my mother always said though: Moderation is the key. With everything.

Yes indeed, trip to Amsterdam was in order.

***
He stomped out of the bathroom, "So. Have you decided where we're off to next?" I couldn't tell whether it was a quiz or an inquiry. There was no way I was going to be able to get him to eat any more sausage on this trip, so Germany was out. Actually, he probably would have sucked it up if I wanted to go back to Munich, but he forgot his antacid medication and wasn't too thrilled with what we picked up somewhere between London and Budapest. "Amsterdam," I stated as I rifled through my bag on the bed. That's the great thing about traveling with someone you're incredibly in love with. They have a way of ebbing and flowing with all your bad moods, all the good times that seem to crop up during long trips.

And that's when he reminded me that he loved me. A wonderful friend of mine was a flight attendant back in the day, and she says there's nothing better than hotel sex. I'd have to agree.
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So, what's on your pg. 174?