It's like Perry Farrel once sang: "All the guys who really have the money are too old to party or get dirty. Too old to turn the women on. Too old to have a fast car and drive it."
It's all about a handful of little blue diamonds and an utter lack of wit. It's more pathetic than soliciting a prostitute, it's paying more for something you probably won't get unless you beg, whinge and cry humbly enough.
It's giving up a few degrees of self-esteem. It's about not listening and wanting wanting wanting far too much for far too little. Burn, baby, burn.
In Kmotra for the first time in far too long. The usual crowd, the usual waiting, the usual stand-offish service. And, to the left of where Babe Loris and I are seated, there's a sight that's become somewhat more than usual these days. May-December, Oak-and-Fern, Ancient-and-Innocent; that is, Elder Man (this one a Brit) and Younger Woman (Czech, blonde, big tits, tight clothes, closed mouth, etc.).
Something that must've been set up through the personals in that online expats website, I dunno…
But I digress. Let's take a look at the ad:
Genuine, young 50, charming, sporty man (skiing, golf, tennis, off-shore power boating), own business, works London & Switzerland. Looking for a fun, down to earth, sophisticated, outgoing, good-looking young woman aged 18-30 for casual, possibly lasting relationship. Please reply with a photo to the attention of this newspaper, attn. Classifieds # XX-XY.
Quite poetic, no? Now let's deconstruct:
Desperate, Peter-Pan-complexed 50, bullshitting, sporty man (ESPN, Eurosport, Sports Illustrated), on the lam, wanted in London & Switzerland. Looking for a kinky, scat-fiendish, flexible, easy, ball-boilingly beautiful girl of any age below 21 to serve my selfish needs for casual mind-numbing, hopefully soul-crunching sex. I mentioned that I am desperate, so I had better get a fucking reply ASAfuckingP. Attention: I like to take it up the arse, I'll expect you to like this as well.
And the first mask gets lifted with conversation as banal as the stories in the paper in which the ad appears:
He says nothing for a few minutes. She also stays silent, perhaps stifles a yawn or thinks about that new mobile phone cover she's going to buy tomorrow, after this stiff goes to whatever meetings or job things he's got in the morning.
He thinks about what to say, and thinks about how much different this is from networking, how bloody difficult it is to know what to say to the, ahem, 'fairer' sex. 'Fairer' - what a laugh. That goddamn bitch of an ex-wife got way more than...
Ah, but that's another story.
So, we've got the silence. Babe Loris is telling me some story about a friend of hers who lost her virginity in front of her local pub with the local drunk, and how this girl's father caught them as he was going in for his three-liter nightcap and booted the fuck out of the drunk.
Immediately following this, EB (ElderBrit) begins to speak. He tells his GDB (GoldDiggin'Bitch) about an experience he's had with the Czech Language, a funny little fluff-up, haha. Something about the phrase 'na co?' and he thought that the speakers were saying, 'Yeah, so?'
GDB has already begun to fake with that grin she's pushing through her bored visage. There may be some sympathy or pity in there somewhere, there must be. I suppose it's not really any of my business, but, then again, I can't be bothered to make shit up to write about either.
Babe Loris asks me if I'm listening to her. I tell her I am, and she goes on about the time her and a friend slept in a stranger's flat in the Dam (happens all the time I suppose) and how he had an aquarium tank full of all sorts of pills and powders, and got her and her friend stoned and tried to get them to pose for him, and so on, but I didn't really want to hear the rest so I skillfully tune out of that and notice that the EB geezer looks a bit nervous.
GDB gets up to go to the pisstank. Looks so dead. The waiter then comes to their table and he tries to order in Czech. Lots of arm waving and hand flipping to get the message out. The waiter lets him fumble and stumble on for a minute or so, then responds in English. EB finds this funny and laughs, hawhaw, and the waiter smiles back with the same tone that GDB gave him after his 'na co?' / 'Yeah, so?' anecdote.
The waiter leaves.
Something strange about the waiter, thinks EB. It seems to him that the waiter walks and talks like a... like a... heehee... like a homosexual. Ha ha.
GDB returns from her powder and he tells her about the service all excited-like. She nods vaguely and something in her face gives away the fact that her ennui has given away to annoyance, maybe even regret.
And now I suppose that convention dictates that I should pitch into the convo with Babe Loris, after all she's been doing all the talking up to now.
"So," I ask her, "D'you think the waiter's gay?"