Smiles at a jogger's pace
Attachment, there's no place. Curiosity always curved Sympathy seekers curbed. Lingering until latched, Genuine intention stashed. Liberally lining their pockets, Energy greater than sockets. Unplug upon satisfaction. Ignore embittered reaction. Sultry scan for a souvenir, Hardly the parasite pioneer.
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Do NOT mistake this for the 80's Rom-Com, "Pretty in the Pink." The protagonist does NOT get the guy, have a theme song, or have any recollection of wearing or packing the color pink on this 3 day trip to Prague. In Prague, I found myself in a love parallelogram, if you will. A triangle just doesn't seem to be the shape to most accurately represent what was that day after Christmas night in clubs across Prague. At the meeting spot for the pub crawl at 8 sharp, I saw a tall blonde with a sweater, or "jumper" as they call it, and skinny jeans similar to mine. I sparked up conversation instantly and her accent was quite a surprise. Australian, hands down. Stereotypical of an American, a vast number of us are infatuated with Australian and English accents. I know that's a stereotype... But are you really going to argue with me? You don't enjoy a good "mate" or "bloody hell?" Yeah that's what I thought... Anyway, after befriending The Awesome Aussie, we began to take shots that were compliments of the crawl for the first hour. Completely unlimited. She claimed she needed to pace herself, but I had experience with my blonde best friend back home on how-to entice others to take shots. There were three Brazilian girls standing, smiling, and sipping a beer. Why are you sipping during the only hour of free drinks, I thought. Beginners. The Aussie must have had a similar thought because she prompted me, "let's go talk to them! They need to live and it up!" Before you knew it, we had formed forces. Three beautiful Brazilians, The Awesome Aussie who was also beautiful, and me and my American Travel buddy (whom I guess to someone is beautiful ;) Since my travel buddy is a dude, I guess he's not included in our group that became known in the crawl as "The Baddest." That's not me saying that... That turned out to be the name that was coined at the second or third bar from some of the other guys that approached my guy friend. He said, "man you are so freaking lucky! Those girls are the baddest in here. And you are talking to like all of them?!" Another one, an American... Of course! If you've listened to any of my other European Bar Crawl stories... I always end up getting tangled up with an American. How basic of me LOL This particular one was a tall glass of water that also approached my travel buddy and said, "Man, the girl in the dress..... great job landing her, because she can freaking dance!" Immediately, he corrected him and prompted him to approach me since I was single and could be bothered to mingle. Of course, he never did. Then what about the parallelogram? It's coming... I promise! As one of the Brazilians found another Brazilian and kind of coupled off with him for the rest of the night... The rest of us continued to dance, flirt, and soak up Prague, since none of us had ever been here before. After one conversation my travel buddy had with The Awesome Aussie, my travel buddy looked defeated. He approached me and said, "Well damn. At least she likes one of us." Confused with who he was referring to, I pressed further. "The awesome Aussie! She's not into me... But she likes you." "Oh yeah, she's awesome," I said innocently. He threw a teasing look at me and said, "Nah man, she dates girls too." I threw my head back cackling. And if you've ever had the privilege to see this in real life, it's quite the scene. Completely flattered, I took the compliment and continued with my drinks. Scanning the room, I found this beautiful blonde, tall glass of water that I'd noticed that the first club, but figured he was out of my league. This time, his blue eyes met mine. Damn it! Another blue-eyed beauty. He had an edgy kind of guy next to him who was also quite attractive, but didn't have my eye on that one. The Aussie walked right up to them. So feeling bold as well, I figured I'd join her. Flirting commenced and we ended up dancing around each other, but never necessarily together. Picture 4-year-olds playing soccer-- they get close, but usually never actually get the ball, they just hover. While the Aussie interacted with the one I found most beautiful (he hailed from Poland), I interacted with the attractive, but edgy Russian. The only thing I could have ever imagined as a personality trait in regards to a Russian is that they're kind of intense... This guy definitely fit that bill, or that "Todd"... Just kidding! I can't remember his name anyway. On the way to the bathroom, or "the lou" as she called it , her and I exchanged notes on which boy we were trying to pursue. She was into the Russian, I was into the Polish man, the Polish man seemed magnetically attracted to the Aussie and the Russian seem to gravitate to me, even after our conversation ended and I trailed off both literally and mentally. Then, keep in mind the Aussie has also had a girlfriend... So the possibilities here for what everyone was wanting seems endless. See what I'm saying? A triangle would just not suffice....Advancing to the last club, I could see that the Russian began "feeling me." Not literally.... yet.... Making his way over to the bar, he whipped his head back at me saying, "You want something? What are you drinking?" Regardless of the country, I seldom pass up a drink offered from a cute boy as long as I can see it being made. I matched his vodka Sprite with "an abundance of limes." That's a quote. Usually I go for soda water, but the cute little bottles were something I couldn't resist. European bars seldom have carbonated soda stations or soda guns like our land-of-the-free bars. They also charge for water, since it too is bottled. Affordable? It's almost always more than an alcoholic drink. #hellohangover After three of those lemon and lime sugared puppies (not ruff in the slightest), we made our way to the dance floor and he tried to keep rhythm. I would like to "Blame It On the Alcohol," but I'm pretty sure this boy just had no rhythm. Cute though, we danced as I glanced over at the other pair, The Awesome Aussie and my fleeting Crush, the Polish dude. Once Queen came on, it was a wrap. The Aussie and I screamed at the top of our lungs and jammed (no peanut butter in this country, unfortunately) together and the two boys found their way into other girls' arms. Fine by us, we thought. But like my blonde best friend in the states and I discovered time and time again, they usually come back. So acting as if nothing happened, they were turn to us probably 5 songs or 10 songs later. That was the best measure of time I had since I don't sport a watch and my phone was rapidly dying. At this point, we had forgotten about our Brazilian girls until we ran into one of them (not literally, I only run to buffet lines and from commitment). Apparently, this club was the the setting for a shitshow for everyone involved.
It was around 5 a.m. when the club closed, and the parallelogram of unrequited lust, made its way toward Old Prague, across one of the famous bridges. My hostel, mind you was in a completely different direction. Since I had no data or internet connection, I couldn't order an Uber, I couldn't get on maps to see how to get back, and oh yeah, I couldn't remember the name of our hostel. Do you know any hostels there are in downtown Prague? Probably equivalent to hotels in downtown Dallas. FML why don't I eat more blueberries? I tried to take notes from the Aussie's Google Maps to a hostel that sounded like mine, but I had no pen and no paper. So where else can I put the notes? In my dying phone. Awesome. Now we know the Polish dude was never interested, but do you think the Russian even offered a "that sucks" or "good luck?" No. Totally disregarded, I made my way into the foreign city alone. Along the way of my makeshift MapQuest directions, I miraculously found an open wi-fi connection that I could connect to. I'm not exaggerating here. It really truly was a miracle to find a place with free Wi-Fi. During our 6 hours of daylight earlier that very day sightseeing, I could not find even one place that had open wi-fi. Not cafes, shops, tourist spots, and internet cafes were extinct in this city. Thanking God I found this open Wi-Fi connection, I turned to Google for help. I sent a message to my travel buddy to keep an eye out for me and to tell me the code to get into the hostel. Isn't it fun, how some guys seem to be around till you need them? After feeling like I got my bearings, I ventured out again with now 1% on my phone battery. Just as it was dying, I came across a taxi man helping a couple and their luggage into his car. In all my experience in Prague, you know the whole three days of it, I found a blatant disregard for humans that we're not "in Czech" with their culture. Maybe just humans in general. So, I was a bit timid to ask the driver for help since I've been shut down several times just when ordering coffee, getting dinner, and sipping air through my freckled nose. It's not like I wasn't paying... well, aside from the air. Well, thankfully, this guy only rolled his eyes once and told me which direction to go. I totally guessed it was "the Central hostel" and he helped me head in the right direction. After passing shady figures in the street with determination and adrenaline pumping through me, I made it to my hostel and in through the front door; I practically carved the code with my nail into my skin. Yes, my memory really is that bad. I climbed the flight of stairs, and knocked on our hostel door. I remembered what door was ours by the chipped paint close to the keyhole. Visually, I'm okay... Numbers and address wise? I'm screwed.
As my travel buddy answered the door, I began gushing about my night and inquiring of his. I found a different air in the room and I couldn't quite put my finger on it until it struck me that we may not be alone. I prosed the famous question... "Is someone here?" "Sorry," I heard as covers pushed up and out, revealing a small face framed with brown wavy hair. Wow, I thought to myself, but tried hard to maintain a poker face. I know we share the same name, but I am no Lady Gaga. The stranger began laughing, unveiling her as American. The kind of "Minnesota-nice ....dontcha know." Somehow, the conversation turned to Celine Dion. The other American was so young that she was unfamiliar with the artist! Laughing hysterically, I belted into a famous Celine Dion song. My Travel buddy joined me and cued the backup music on his iPhone. After my performance, I told him to not even think about waking me in the morning, since it had been such an eventful night. Wouldn't you know that my happy little ass woke up at 3 p.m. the next day. Hungover, but happy. Although it wasn't my favorite city because of the rude people, I do believe you should give this place a Nike Czech and "just do it" ;) Since I bounce like an 80's pogo-stick, I figured I should expand on my adventures hobbling and wobbling around in a medical-grade (not Steve Madden unfortunately) Velcro boot. So... I ended up having broken toes I mentioned two posts ago for more than 6 weeks!! Possibly because I didn't seek medical attention or possibly because I can't stop, won't stop....1. Conceal the pain |
AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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