CHAPTER 16 - So... What's Your Sign?
I walked into Akropolis on my own that night at a quarter past ten. I wasn’t trying to be fashionably late. I was just late, as usual. I walked through the club (it had two rooms with different bars and music) searching for some of the students and found a few of them seated at a table in the corner of the room. Only five students had arrived so far. One of them was Eva.
I didn’t want to make it too obvious how I felt about Eva so I greeted the students and went to sit down on the other side of the table – as far away from her as possible. Unfortunately, there was no room on those benches. The table was a small one and, as fate would have it, Eva signaled me over to sit next to her because there was an extra chair behind her. The students all welcomed me enthusiastically and continued their conversations from before I had arrived.
I sat down next to Eva and fumbled through my pockets for some tobacco and rolling paper. I hated this feeling. This uncertainty. Had Eva wanted me to sit next to her on purpose? Had she signaled me nearby because she felt something between us too? Something beyond a mere student/teacher relationship? I was probably just reading too much into it. Or was I? It was absurd. There I was, a completely logical and intelligent individual and I was reading lust and desire into an act so common and courteous as someone offering me a seat. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why is it that grown, thinking men can be reduced to eager and insecure boys when sex is added into the equation? That was it. As I finished rolling my cigarette and lit it, I resolved not to make the same mistake as all the other mindless, self-conscious male slobs in this world. I would act and, more importantly, think in a logical and mature manner.
"How are you, Paul? All is fine?" Eva asked.
"Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine." Everything’s fine? What an idiot! Everything’s fine. I should have said something else! Something more impressive. A smooth line to sweep her off her feet. It’s obvious she was talking to me because she wanted me. She needed me. One look into her beautiful green eyes and I could tell.
"You want drink? I will go to the bar."
"Yeah, yeah. Pivo, prosím."
She giggled a bit and her soft, creamy cheeks blushed slightly. She gently touched me on the leg, said, "You speak little Czech! Very good! I will go to buy beer for you and returning," and went to the bar on the other side of the dancefloor.
She touched me. She did it on purpose. It was obvious. She felt the same way about me. She wanted me as much as I wanted her! I mean, a touch on the leg. Who touches another person on the leg unless they want to have sex with them? It all made sense: Clear as day.
As I turned to watch Eva walk across the dancefloor towards the bar – in her tight jeans, with her slender graceful arms, and her hair gently flowing as she moved forward – the other students jolted me back into reality.
"So, Paul, you like Czech beer?" one of the boys asked.
"Like it? I love it! Some of the best in the world."
The others smiled at me. They were hanging on my every word, eagerly anticipating anything I would say.
"And how long you in Czech Republic?" another student, a very pretty one named Petra who sat a few seats next to Eva, asked.
"How long have I been here? Um, let’s see. I came in November... so... Something like four months now. Yeah, four months."
"And you like Prague?"
"Well, sure I do. Or else I wouldn’t still be here, right?!" I chuckled. The others at the table joined in, it seemed, not because they found something funny, but because they didn’t want to offend me. "No, but seriously. You have a wonderful country. I mean, the weather is a little bad sometimes, but I love everything else. The lifestyle, the architecture, the..." Eva returned to the table and placed my beer in front of me. "Thank you."
"Nazdraví!" she exclaimed and lifted the glass of wine she had just bought. We all nazdravíed each other and drank.
"And why did you go from USA?" another student asked. His name was Jirka and he was one of the students that always smoked with me during the fifteen minute school breaks.
"Well, that’s a tough question." I explained to the students how I had graduated from university in Georgia the previous year and how I had traveled across Europe. I told them about Greece, about my adventures there, and in Holland, and in other parts of the world, and how I finally ended up in the Czech Republic. It gave me an over-inflated sense of importance to see how interested they were in everything I was saying. I know I’m no one special, but they didn’t seem to think that.
"And you have girlfriend?" asked Petra when I had finished.
I glanced at Eva, who was just as interested in what I was saying as everyone else, and then addressed Petra immediately, "No, no. I don’t have a girlfriend. No one to tie me down. Free and single. That’s me. No girlfriend."
Petra smiled. "That is nice."
I was acting too nervous. Too strangely. Everyone could tell. Even Eva. Especially Eva. I was being too obvious. But then again, how could they tell? How could they know? To them, I was a strange person from halfway across the world. Everything I did seemed strange to them. Not only was the way I was speaking to them unfamiliar, but the very language as well. And they were loving every minute of it. My thoughts momentarily turned to one person whose name I couldn’t remember but I knew I had met once at chess night. He was a friend of Arthur’s and Jordan’s, the two longhaired and bearded masters of Prague, and we had gotten to talking about what makes Prague so wonderful. "Well," he had told me, "You gotta love a country where, ‘Excuse me, do you speak English?’ is the best pick-up line a chick’s ever heard!"
The students continued to ask me questions about every aspect of my life and to buy me one beer after the other. As eleven o’clock approached, most of the students who had said they would come to Akropolis had arrived. With fifteen or so of us gathered there in the corner, the questions directed towards me soon ran out and all the students started talking to each other – getting to know each other more intimately. I was still seated next to Eva and could think of nothing else other than trying to get to know her more intimately.
"So, Eva. Why couldn’t you make it the last time a few of us went to the pub? It was two Fridays ago, I think. Didn’t you say you were working or something?" I looked into her emerald eyes and lost myself. I couldn’t wait for her to respond. To see those wonderful lips of hers move. Those softly spoken words with that sexy Czech accent she had. I just wanted to grab her right then and there, hold her in my arms, and kiss her until eternity.
"No, no. I did not say working. I don’t have working. I said busy. Sorry. I wanted come but I was busy." She grinned delicately and put her glass of wine to those lips I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
"Oh, okay. Busy. What were you busy with?"
"I was with my boyfriend."
I leaned back into my chair. Thank God it was sturdy enough to stop me from falling. "Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend? I didn’t know that."
"Yes. I said goodbye that Friday. He leaving for Australia for work and study program."
I just sat there, staring at her with a puzzled look on my face. I’m sure my mouth was half-open in shock, but I didn’t bother to check it. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yes. Many years. Almost four. It is what I say now."
Many years? Almost four?! I needed to cool off a bit. My beer. Where was it? Ah, on the table. A nice refreshing gulp and then, "Sooo," I put the pint-glass back. "You have a boyfriend, eh? Four years. That’s cool." That lucky bastard. I’d like to rip his fucking privileged cock off and shove it up his ass. Eva’s... boyfriend. I couldn’t even think it let alone say it without getting angry. Son of a bitch! "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."
I needed to calm down. Get it out of my head. Or work it through my head. Yeah, that would be better. A game plan is what I needed. Some way to lure Eva away from her boyfriend, even if it was for only one passionate night. I needed to make her temporarily forget him and realize what a catch she had in me. Here I was, a college graduate who had worked as a cashier at the local pharmacy for a few months in order to save up for a deep-discount courier flight across the Atlantic, now working at a low paying job (in a school named ELVIS no less) in the middle of Eastern Europe without a dime to my name (a few Czech korunas, maybe – but definitely no dimes). Okay, so maybe I wasn’t such a catch. But damn it! I was her teacher! That’s what these students nowadays need to learn. Respect! How to respect and listen to their teachers. I splashed some water on my face and looked up into the bathroom mirror. I made up my mind. I’d use the most creative, slyest plan ever devised in order to lure Eva away from her man. I’d try to make him look like an utter and complete asshole.
"So, that’s nice. You have a boyfriend."
"Yes. He is very nice."
"Uh-huh. And where did you say he is now?"
Eva sighed, "Australia."
"Wow, really? That’s SO far away though. How long will he stay for?"
She sighed again. "Minimum one year. Maybe more. Maybe two I think."
Piece of cake! I would have this guy looking like an asshole in no time. "That’s a shame, Eva. That’s a shame. I know how you feel." I patted her hand gently in sympathy. "Why is he leaving for so long? Especially if he loves you. Doesn’t that upset you?"
"Yes! Of course! But what I can do?"
"Yeah. But at least you’ll see him in that time, right? I mean, he’ll come back here for a visit or you’ll go there, won’t you?"
Her eyes grew and stared at the wineglass on the table. "Probably no. It is very far. Very expensive. I must save money for the university."
"But, at least he’ll come here, right?"
"I think no. He have no money also. He must to work and study in Australia."
Another gentle hand-stroke and compliment was needed. "I’ll tell you what, Eva. He doesn’t know what he’s giving up. If you were my girlfriend, I’d have you by my side all day and everyday."
She smiled as my hand rested on hers and pierced my soul with those lovely eyes. "Thank you, Paul." I melted. "But please. I don’t want to talk anymore of him. It makes me upset."
"I know, I know. I can tell. I’m sorry. But if you were my girlfriend, I’d never make you upset. But, you know, it must be his age. He’s probably too young and immature. He doesn’t know what he has and what he’s leaving behind."
She continued smiling and looking into my eyes. God! I just wanted to grab her and press our lips together. "Yes, maybe."
"Say, how old is he, Eva?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Twenty-seven! He’s a lot older than me! What are you doing with an older man like that? You need a younger man. He’s probably too old and experienced. He knows what he has and he’s just leaving it behind."
Eva directed her eyes back to the wineglass before her and sighed in agreement. There’s nothing better than a young, impressionable mind... Except for a young, impressionable mind that doesn’t fully understand your language and, therefore, can’t spot any contradictions in what you’ve just said.
"I know, Paul. I know. But please. Let us talk of other things. I want to forget him."
Excellent. I had planted the seeds of assholedom in her mind. There, they would hopefully fester and grow. No need to rush things. I obliged Eva and didn’t mention her boyfriend again that night.
By the time three o’clock arrived, most of the students had already left for home. Only a handful remained – the hardcore drinkers, those that had passed out on the table, and Eva. She had wanted to leave earlier, but I convinced her to stay. After all, she even admitted that she was having a great time. But now, seeing as we were the only two from the original group still able to walk (somewhat) straight, I knew I had to do something to keep her interested besides just blabbing away into her ear.
"Do you wanna dance?"
"You? You dance? But you have so much beers! How you can dance?"
"Don’t worry ‘bout me, baby. I spent a week drinking with Czechs in the middle of nowhere." I stood up and extended my hand, waiting for her to take hold.
"OK, why no?" and we made our way to the still crowded dance floor.
The great thing about dancing in a club, or anywhere where alcohol is served for that fact, is that you don’t care if you make an ass of yourself. I know, for example, that I can’t dance. I once saw a video recording of myself dancing at party – completely sober mind you – and it reminded me of a Palsy patient trying to last minute avoid some dogshit on the sidewalk. But hell, once I get a few pints in me, who cares. All I wanted to do was dance with my beautiful Eva, even though it was three in the morning and most of the others on the dancefloor were completely wrecked as well. And so, we pushed our way through some of the other spasmodic dogshit avoiders and I soon joined their ranks in the center.
I’ll admit, I felt a bit ridiculous there on the dancefloor that night. A bit like Herman at that African wedding. I never dance and I was sure I was out of place. But then again, I thought, Herman must have known he was out of place in that dancing sea of Africans too. The only difference was that he didn’t care. Not one iota. So what the hell was I worried about? If an alcoholic, middle-aged expatriate with shattered hopes and delusional dreams could do it, then so could I.
Eva sucked me back into the moment and made me lose all inhibitions. She waved her hands rhythmically and shook her hips forcefully, all to the command of the DJ. As I attempted to perform my pathetic dance moves, she shook her tight ass and ran her fingers up her body – from her firm thighs to her full, perky breasts, and finally, allowed them to disappear into her bobbing blonde hair. She was enraptured. The music had taken control of her and she was loving it. Eva smiled slyly at me and outstretched her arms towards my shoulders. A second before she actually touched them, she spun around and I caught the sweet scent of her hair. Now, with her back to me, she bent her knees slightly and pushed her ass against me or, more specifically, my crotch. Personal note, try to dance more often. She never stopped moving to the beat of the music and neither did her ass. I placed my hands on her hips and tried to keep up with her as best I could. Eros had definitely enraptured me. Thank God I was too drunk to get an erection.
Eva and I danced until Akropolis closed that night. The other students we had left at the table in the corner were all long gone by then. So we went and got our things from the coat-check and headed out into the freezing 5am Prague twilight alone. I walked Eva to her tram stop and she checked the timetable. A ten-minute wait.
"I’ll stay here and keep you company until it comes, Eva."
"No, no. Is okay. You go home, Paul."
"No. I want to."
She smiled. Eva’s cheeks were bright red from the cold. She was shivering. I stepped behind and wrapped my arms around her.
"See? That’s better, huh? It’s really cold tonight."
"Yes," she leaned her head back into my chest. I closed my eyes and took her scent in. "But I no think my boyfriend will liking this."
"Come on," I reassured her. "He’s not here. He abandoned you! He’s all the way in Australia," as I tightened my hug.
Eva didn’t respond. We just stood there in the early morning silence, waiting for the tram and enjoying the moment.
When we could hear it approaching, Eva released herself from my arms and turned around. "I had super night today. Thank you, Paul."
"It’s nothing. Honestly."
"Yes. I would like to do it again. You have a mobile telephone?"
"Well, um, no actually. You see, I don’t really believe in them..."
"Is pity," she interrupted. She looked into my eyes, leaned forward, and kissed me lightly on the lips. (I would later find out that it was nothing significant. Czech friends of the opposite sex, apparently, always kiss goodbye on the lips – just as the French kiss on both cheeks).
"But, but... Give me your phone number anyway." I patted my jackets in search of a pen and some scrap paper. A pen! A pen! Shit, I need a pen!!! "Damn it! I don’t have a pen."
"Is okay. I have one." She scribbled down her number and handed it to me just as the tram arrived and opened its doors. "Good night, Paul," she blew from her luscious lips and stepped on.
As the doors closed, my eyes followed her to her seat. She turned around and waved goodbye. I smiled, and continued smiling as I watched the tram slowly disappear into the approaching sunrise... all the while making sure that I was still holding that piece of paper in my clenched fist.
I didn’t want to make it too obvious how I felt about Eva so I greeted the students and went to sit down on the other side of the table – as far away from her as possible. Unfortunately, there was no room on those benches. The table was a small one and, as fate would have it, Eva signaled me over to sit next to her because there was an extra chair behind her. The students all welcomed me enthusiastically and continued their conversations from before I had arrived.
I sat down next to Eva and fumbled through my pockets for some tobacco and rolling paper. I hated this feeling. This uncertainty. Had Eva wanted me to sit next to her on purpose? Had she signaled me nearby because she felt something between us too? Something beyond a mere student/teacher relationship? I was probably just reading too much into it. Or was I? It was absurd. There I was, a completely logical and intelligent individual and I was reading lust and desire into an act so common and courteous as someone offering me a seat. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why is it that grown, thinking men can be reduced to eager and insecure boys when sex is added into the equation? That was it. As I finished rolling my cigarette and lit it, I resolved not to make the same mistake as all the other mindless, self-conscious male slobs in this world. I would act and, more importantly, think in a logical and mature manner.
"How are you, Paul? All is fine?" Eva asked.
"Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine." Everything’s fine? What an idiot! Everything’s fine. I should have said something else! Something more impressive. A smooth line to sweep her off her feet. It’s obvious she was talking to me because she wanted me. She needed me. One look into her beautiful green eyes and I could tell.
"You want drink? I will go to the bar."
"Yeah, yeah. Pivo, prosím."
She giggled a bit and her soft, creamy cheeks blushed slightly. She gently touched me on the leg, said, "You speak little Czech! Very good! I will go to buy beer for you and returning," and went to the bar on the other side of the dancefloor.
She touched me. She did it on purpose. It was obvious. She felt the same way about me. She wanted me as much as I wanted her! I mean, a touch on the leg. Who touches another person on the leg unless they want to have sex with them? It all made sense: Clear as day.
As I turned to watch Eva walk across the dancefloor towards the bar – in her tight jeans, with her slender graceful arms, and her hair gently flowing as she moved forward – the other students jolted me back into reality.
"So, Paul, you like Czech beer?" one of the boys asked.
"Like it? I love it! Some of the best in the world."
The others smiled at me. They were hanging on my every word, eagerly anticipating anything I would say.
"And how long you in Czech Republic?" another student, a very pretty one named Petra who sat a few seats next to Eva, asked.
"How long have I been here? Um, let’s see. I came in November... so... Something like four months now. Yeah, four months."
"And you like Prague?"
"Well, sure I do. Or else I wouldn’t still be here, right?!" I chuckled. The others at the table joined in, it seemed, not because they found something funny, but because they didn’t want to offend me. "No, but seriously. You have a wonderful country. I mean, the weather is a little bad sometimes, but I love everything else. The lifestyle, the architecture, the..." Eva returned to the table and placed my beer in front of me. "Thank you."
"Nazdraví!" she exclaimed and lifted the glass of wine she had just bought. We all nazdravíed each other and drank.
"And why did you go from USA?" another student asked. His name was Jirka and he was one of the students that always smoked with me during the fifteen minute school breaks.
"Well, that’s a tough question." I explained to the students how I had graduated from university in Georgia the previous year and how I had traveled across Europe. I told them about Greece, about my adventures there, and in Holland, and in other parts of the world, and how I finally ended up in the Czech Republic. It gave me an over-inflated sense of importance to see how interested they were in everything I was saying. I know I’m no one special, but they didn’t seem to think that.
"And you have girlfriend?" asked Petra when I had finished.
I glanced at Eva, who was just as interested in what I was saying as everyone else, and then addressed Petra immediately, "No, no. I don’t have a girlfriend. No one to tie me down. Free and single. That’s me. No girlfriend."
Petra smiled. "That is nice."
I was acting too nervous. Too strangely. Everyone could tell. Even Eva. Especially Eva. I was being too obvious. But then again, how could they tell? How could they know? To them, I was a strange person from halfway across the world. Everything I did seemed strange to them. Not only was the way I was speaking to them unfamiliar, but the very language as well. And they were loving every minute of it. My thoughts momentarily turned to one person whose name I couldn’t remember but I knew I had met once at chess night. He was a friend of Arthur’s and Jordan’s, the two longhaired and bearded masters of Prague, and we had gotten to talking about what makes Prague so wonderful. "Well," he had told me, "You gotta love a country where, ‘Excuse me, do you speak English?’ is the best pick-up line a chick’s ever heard!"
The students continued to ask me questions about every aspect of my life and to buy me one beer after the other. As eleven o’clock approached, most of the students who had said they would come to Akropolis had arrived. With fifteen or so of us gathered there in the corner, the questions directed towards me soon ran out and all the students started talking to each other – getting to know each other more intimately. I was still seated next to Eva and could think of nothing else other than trying to get to know her more intimately.
"So, Eva. Why couldn’t you make it the last time a few of us went to the pub? It was two Fridays ago, I think. Didn’t you say you were working or something?" I looked into her emerald eyes and lost myself. I couldn’t wait for her to respond. To see those wonderful lips of hers move. Those softly spoken words with that sexy Czech accent she had. I just wanted to grab her right then and there, hold her in my arms, and kiss her until eternity.
"No, no. I did not say working. I don’t have working. I said busy. Sorry. I wanted come but I was busy." She grinned delicately and put her glass of wine to those lips I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
"Oh, okay. Busy. What were you busy with?"
"I was with my boyfriend."
I leaned back into my chair. Thank God it was sturdy enough to stop me from falling. "Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend? I didn’t know that."
"Yes. I said goodbye that Friday. He leaving for Australia for work and study program."
I just sat there, staring at her with a puzzled look on my face. I’m sure my mouth was half-open in shock, but I didn’t bother to check it. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yes. Many years. Almost four. It is what I say now."
Many years? Almost four?! I needed to cool off a bit. My beer. Where was it? Ah, on the table. A nice refreshing gulp and then, "Sooo," I put the pint-glass back. "You have a boyfriend, eh? Four years. That’s cool." That lucky bastard. I’d like to rip his fucking privileged cock off and shove it up his ass. Eva’s... boyfriend. I couldn’t even think it let alone say it without getting angry. Son of a bitch! "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."
I needed to calm down. Get it out of my head. Or work it through my head. Yeah, that would be better. A game plan is what I needed. Some way to lure Eva away from her boyfriend, even if it was for only one passionate night. I needed to make her temporarily forget him and realize what a catch she had in me. Here I was, a college graduate who had worked as a cashier at the local pharmacy for a few months in order to save up for a deep-discount courier flight across the Atlantic, now working at a low paying job (in a school named ELVIS no less) in the middle of Eastern Europe without a dime to my name (a few Czech korunas, maybe – but definitely no dimes). Okay, so maybe I wasn’t such a catch. But damn it! I was her teacher! That’s what these students nowadays need to learn. Respect! How to respect and listen to their teachers. I splashed some water on my face and looked up into the bathroom mirror. I made up my mind. I’d use the most creative, slyest plan ever devised in order to lure Eva away from her man. I’d try to make him look like an utter and complete asshole.
"So, that’s nice. You have a boyfriend."
"Yes. He is very nice."
"Uh-huh. And where did you say he is now?"
Eva sighed, "Australia."
"Wow, really? That’s SO far away though. How long will he stay for?"
She sighed again. "Minimum one year. Maybe more. Maybe two I think."
Piece of cake! I would have this guy looking like an asshole in no time. "That’s a shame, Eva. That’s a shame. I know how you feel." I patted her hand gently in sympathy. "Why is he leaving for so long? Especially if he loves you. Doesn’t that upset you?"
"Yes! Of course! But what I can do?"
"Yeah. But at least you’ll see him in that time, right? I mean, he’ll come back here for a visit or you’ll go there, won’t you?"
Her eyes grew and stared at the wineglass on the table. "Probably no. It is very far. Very expensive. I must save money for the university."
"But, at least he’ll come here, right?"
"I think no. He have no money also. He must to work and study in Australia."
Another gentle hand-stroke and compliment was needed. "I’ll tell you what, Eva. He doesn’t know what he’s giving up. If you were my girlfriend, I’d have you by my side all day and everyday."
She smiled as my hand rested on hers and pierced my soul with those lovely eyes. "Thank you, Paul." I melted. "But please. I don’t want to talk anymore of him. It makes me upset."
"I know, I know. I can tell. I’m sorry. But if you were my girlfriend, I’d never make you upset. But, you know, it must be his age. He’s probably too young and immature. He doesn’t know what he has and what he’s leaving behind."
She continued smiling and looking into my eyes. God! I just wanted to grab her and press our lips together. "Yes, maybe."
"Say, how old is he, Eva?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Twenty-seven! He’s a lot older than me! What are you doing with an older man like that? You need a younger man. He’s probably too old and experienced. He knows what he has and he’s just leaving it behind."
Eva directed her eyes back to the wineglass before her and sighed in agreement. There’s nothing better than a young, impressionable mind... Except for a young, impressionable mind that doesn’t fully understand your language and, therefore, can’t spot any contradictions in what you’ve just said.
"I know, Paul. I know. But please. Let us talk of other things. I want to forget him."
Excellent. I had planted the seeds of assholedom in her mind. There, they would hopefully fester and grow. No need to rush things. I obliged Eva and didn’t mention her boyfriend again that night.
By the time three o’clock arrived, most of the students had already left for home. Only a handful remained – the hardcore drinkers, those that had passed out on the table, and Eva. She had wanted to leave earlier, but I convinced her to stay. After all, she even admitted that she was having a great time. But now, seeing as we were the only two from the original group still able to walk (somewhat) straight, I knew I had to do something to keep her interested besides just blabbing away into her ear.
"Do you wanna dance?"
"You? You dance? But you have so much beers! How you can dance?"
"Don’t worry ‘bout me, baby. I spent a week drinking with Czechs in the middle of nowhere." I stood up and extended my hand, waiting for her to take hold.
"OK, why no?" and we made our way to the still crowded dance floor.
The great thing about dancing in a club, or anywhere where alcohol is served for that fact, is that you don’t care if you make an ass of yourself. I know, for example, that I can’t dance. I once saw a video recording of myself dancing at party – completely sober mind you – and it reminded me of a Palsy patient trying to last minute avoid some dogshit on the sidewalk. But hell, once I get a few pints in me, who cares. All I wanted to do was dance with my beautiful Eva, even though it was three in the morning and most of the others on the dancefloor were completely wrecked as well. And so, we pushed our way through some of the other spasmodic dogshit avoiders and I soon joined their ranks in the center.
I’ll admit, I felt a bit ridiculous there on the dancefloor that night. A bit like Herman at that African wedding. I never dance and I was sure I was out of place. But then again, I thought, Herman must have known he was out of place in that dancing sea of Africans too. The only difference was that he didn’t care. Not one iota. So what the hell was I worried about? If an alcoholic, middle-aged expatriate with shattered hopes and delusional dreams could do it, then so could I.
Eva sucked me back into the moment and made me lose all inhibitions. She waved her hands rhythmically and shook her hips forcefully, all to the command of the DJ. As I attempted to perform my pathetic dance moves, she shook her tight ass and ran her fingers up her body – from her firm thighs to her full, perky breasts, and finally, allowed them to disappear into her bobbing blonde hair. She was enraptured. The music had taken control of her and she was loving it. Eva smiled slyly at me and outstretched her arms towards my shoulders. A second before she actually touched them, she spun around and I caught the sweet scent of her hair. Now, with her back to me, she bent her knees slightly and pushed her ass against me or, more specifically, my crotch. Personal note, try to dance more often. She never stopped moving to the beat of the music and neither did her ass. I placed my hands on her hips and tried to keep up with her as best I could. Eros had definitely enraptured me. Thank God I was too drunk to get an erection.
Eva and I danced until Akropolis closed that night. The other students we had left at the table in the corner were all long gone by then. So we went and got our things from the coat-check and headed out into the freezing 5am Prague twilight alone. I walked Eva to her tram stop and she checked the timetable. A ten-minute wait.
"I’ll stay here and keep you company until it comes, Eva."
"No, no. Is okay. You go home, Paul."
"No. I want to."
She smiled. Eva’s cheeks were bright red from the cold. She was shivering. I stepped behind and wrapped my arms around her.
"See? That’s better, huh? It’s really cold tonight."
"Yes," she leaned her head back into my chest. I closed my eyes and took her scent in. "But I no think my boyfriend will liking this."
"Come on," I reassured her. "He’s not here. He abandoned you! He’s all the way in Australia," as I tightened my hug.
Eva didn’t respond. We just stood there in the early morning silence, waiting for the tram and enjoying the moment.
When we could hear it approaching, Eva released herself from my arms and turned around. "I had super night today. Thank you, Paul."
"It’s nothing. Honestly."
"Yes. I would like to do it again. You have a mobile telephone?"
"Well, um, no actually. You see, I don’t really believe in them..."
"Is pity," she interrupted. She looked into my eyes, leaned forward, and kissed me lightly on the lips. (I would later find out that it was nothing significant. Czech friends of the opposite sex, apparently, always kiss goodbye on the lips – just as the French kiss on both cheeks).
"But, but... Give me your phone number anyway." I patted my jackets in search of a pen and some scrap paper. A pen! A pen! Shit, I need a pen!!! "Damn it! I don’t have a pen."
"Is okay. I have one." She scribbled down her number and handed it to me just as the tram arrived and opened its doors. "Good night, Paul," she blew from her luscious lips and stepped on.
As the doors closed, my eyes followed her to her seat. She turned around and waved goodbye. I smiled, and continued smiling as I watched the tram slowly disappear into the approaching sunrise... all the while making sure that I was still holding that piece of paper in my clenched fist.
posted by G.C. PHILO at 4:45 AM
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