The advantages of roughing it

Originally published on August 28, 2006.

Roughing it on the streets has inculcated a discipline which I didn’t have before.

Every day I get up at the same time (these days I have to guess what time it is based on the level of sunlight; I left my watch in IKEA last week.), make my way to the tram and metro, hit Tesco for some breakfast, hit IKEA for free coffee, hit the hypernova for free internet posting, then go off to the station to try and make some money, dodging public transit cops all along the way.

For the last several days, however, I’ve been staying with Woody, Miro, and Laco at a fairly cheap tourist apartment in Nusle. The result has been, yeah, an okay night’s sleep (when I can ignore Miro’s nighttime sawing) and a too-full belly. But no internet and very few commissions. What money I have made came early last week helping Breederboy find a couple straight lads, both for himself and for his site.

(And no, Woody has not given me any money, not even a loan. The whole Woody/Laco opus requires a separate post. The short of it: I may get a custodial job out of it as well as an apartment to crash in. Stay tuned.)

Miro and I have talked about it and we actually prefer roughing it. He prefers stop-start sleeping on night bus 505 and I prefer the outdoors.

If this place I’m in now had a balcony, I would be on it at night. Woody keeps things too hot for me. And with snack food at my disposal all day long I have also gone back to bad eating habits, resulting in stomach aches and hemorrhoids. Maybe caused by all the eggs I’m eating? It has been nice to cook every day for an appreciative crowd, however.

Still, being just a little bit hungry every day honed a real edge on my perceptions that I hadn’t realized I’d gained. Plus, the last time I bought jeans at the second-hand, I realized I’d lost another inch. Don’t wanna go back. I have just enough bearish chunkiness to remain sexy to the guys who like that sort of thing.

What else has happened? I am on German asshole Ulli’s shit list now because of an incident at Rudolfa where Ulli tried to buy one of my boys, Jarda, a beer, and invite him to Ulli’s table. Jarda was due for a video shoot with me the next day and I waved the beer away — Manchester Lee and I were taking care of him anyway — and warned Jarda not to go with him. The real reasons were: That stupid boy Miki, who stole my blanket and 1000 Kč, was with Ulli and I didn’t want Jarda associating with him; and also, Ulli had ditched Miro on one occasion and I have heard from enough boys that Ulli stiffs rent boys or doesn’t pay them the agreed-on price. And since Ulli’s never done anything for me… Plus Ulli is a fat obnoxious pig.

So, my refusal of Ulli’s beer created an uproar with one of Ulli’s regulars — a tall queeny slut with bleached yellow hair — who came over and screamed in my face to come outside with him and take care of things. In the midst of my laughter, Pavel stood up and pushed him away. Then Miki came over and Pavel pushed him away.

Typically, the Rudolfa barmen were ignoring everything and continued to deliver beers to our table. Ulli was yelling at me in Czech — the fucking poseur — so I yelled back that if he wanted to complain to me to do it in English because I didn’t understand his Czech. Fun was had by all and I felt just the teensiest bit more powerful than I had before.

An hour or so later Pavel and Patrick and I were in Valentino with tongues down each other’s throats and I had my hand down some muscleboy’s pants and we were dancing to YMCA, fer fuck’s sake. Didn’t spend a penny then either.

Got back to Woody’s flat at 6 am, spent, drunk and happy. That was. A good night.

0 0 votes
Article Rating
0 0 votes
Article Rating
Notify of
Inline Feedback
View all comments
Hate my guts? Say it to my face.x
Scroll to Top