Monday, May 19, 2008

The wrong bar in Cologne

Lust Doctor Memories 7: I am the hottest guy in the bar. The only other man under 50 is bucktooth ugly and almost Lilliputian in stature. He makes a whistling noise every time he talks, his sentences end with spittle rather than full stops. I am definitely hotter.

This dubious honour leads to attention. A tough chick with dreads comes over and asks me for some Euros…for the jukebox….she fixes her eyes on mine…there’s menace in there. She looks a fighter and I don’t fancy a fight so I give her some change. She says she is Brazilian and likes needlework, repairing dresses and other broken things. Claims her brother plays football for Belenenses in Portugal (I google him later and he exists, looks just like her with football boots and kinder eyes). She does a mad little dance, three inches from me (a lot of arm-moving) to a bad Snoop Dog tune and looks at me expectantly...until I nod my head in self-conscious recognition. There’s a lot of old men in there, drinking coffee, respectable looking granddad types, relaxed in their secret garden, away from their fraus. “Hotel?” asks a rough Turkish woman with too many miles on the clock. “I’m fine” I explain sheepishly. She looks dumbfounded at the refusal.

The tough chick keeps telling me this rough woman or that rough woman is interested in me and I should buy them a coffee to introduce myself. She keeps banging on about me buying coffee. I just sip my high strength beer and try to nod coolly at every weird turn the conversation takes ("It is I who makes the most fashionable dresses"), bat away the unwanted introductions until I finish my drink.

A hook-nosed girl with bird nest hair keeps checking me out and I find myself returning her gaze, double-taking, is she really that ugly and trading on her looks? It’s a flawed business vehicle, but who am I to tell her.

“I just came for a quiet beer,” I say to the tough chick as she tries to make the introduction.

“Yes,“ she says, “I can tell…. Would you like to buy her a coffee?”

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Do ya think I'm sexy?

Lust Doctor Memories 6: The Korean taxi driver hands me a microphone, cranks up his in-car karaoke machine and demands I sing Rod Stewart's "If you want my money and you think I'm sexy" or “no ride” as we speed down Las Vegas Boulevard to our destination, a low key boxing card at the Stratosphere. He is flashing his yellow teeth and talking about "sexy blonde ladies" while leering at the sea of silicone breasts outside…the taxi veers one way and the next as he grabs eyeful after eyeful…what a strange way to die this would be…singing Rod under duress in 114 degree heat….Tupac met his demise here, but not like this.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I love those brave birds

Lust Doctor Memories 5: Yelena worked in an exclusive West End club that doubled up as a honey pot for wealthy, eligible, but near middle-aged men. Underneath the bar counter, she kept an extensive collection of magazines featuring every conceivable male hobby or past-time as she eavesdropped the conversations of the unattached and loaded.

After gauging a measure of her target’s wealth and the nature of his interests, Yelena withdrew from her bar duties to take a conspicuous break with a mineral water and a carefully selected periodical. After a few flicks of her shiny hair, she soon drew attention.

“I didn’t have you down as a pigeon fancier?"
"Oh yes, my father and brothers used homing pigeons when it was so cold in Siberia and the telephone lines froze. Many of them die, but they always try to help us. I love those brave birds. When I first arrive, I sit in Trafalgar Square and it makes me happy remembering those times, sitting amongst their droppings."

Dinner was the minimum expectation though jewelry and indecent proposals were not uncommon, but the holy grail of marriage remained elusive for Yelena. Elsewhere hopeful young girls buy shiny belts and shortish skirts from Top Shop to fit into the scenery, but twinkle just enough. It might never happen for any of us, but in our own way we are all on the lookout for something better.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Carmen 13

Lust Doctor Memories 4: Archie had been dating Carmen, 13, for a week or so. Every day after school she would meet him at his office holding a Spice Girls lunchbox.

Mick, a co-worker and proud father of three, soon made his feelings known.

“Aren’t you concerned,” said Mick, shaking with indignant rage, “that your girlfriend is only 13?”

Archie thought for a moment.

“No,” he replied.

“I’m not superstitious.”