True to Czech form I had another siesta, but to be fair we had put in some good effort on the tourist trail, heading up to the castle and taking in art, history and religion, as well as a rather stodgy local dish involving baked potatoes and ham, that looked like a lasagne. There was a 19th Century painting in one of the galleries of an old bachelor taking a singing lesson, which looked exactly like my dad. I tried to find him a postcard of himself, but there weren't any in the shop, but I am fairly convinced now that my dad is a time traveller and is spending his dotage posing for Czech artists (thankfully fully clothed).
After my sleep we went out to celebrate my girlfriend's birthday at a posh restaurant and somehow my resolve stayed strong and I resisted the urge to drink champagne with her. I felt like a bit of a misery guts and now, of course, I have put myself in the terrible position where the occasion I choose to drink again has to be more important than my girlfriend's birthday. I can't just have a beer with Andrew Collings after a podcast now. I may never drink again, just for fear of the retrospective fury I might unleash. Women never forget anything. Today, my girlfriend reminded me of an occasion 18 months ago when I had chosen to stay in the house watching TV in my pants rather than coming out to a play with her. I had forgotten that occasion, but there it was, in her own personal Google, ready to be mentioned at the relevant moment.
On the way to the restaurant we had passed a table dancing club with a sign I had found rather amusing. As you looked into the courtyard in neon it said "Deluxe Pussy", which seemed a strange thing to promise. What was so special about the pussies that would be on display in this club? How do you rate one pussy against another and decide one is more deluxe than another? Is it like a deluxe caravan where the pussy is bigger and roomier than a normal one (as my girlfriend conjectured) or would the pussies have some extra features not available on your regular common or garden pussy - maybe a special whistle or a second easy-to-locate clitoris? None of these things sounded very appealing. Maybe it was softer or longer like a deluxe toilet roll. Or just sprayed gold or had diamonds on it. There was only one way to find out and it seemed unlikely that my girlfriend was going to give up her birthday dinner in order to do so. I imagined the men who would be tempted by the sign. They wouldn't be interested in just ordinary pussy, but with the promise of a deluxe pussy they would be falling over themselves.
On the way back from the restaurant as we approached the courtyard of deluxe pussy I said to my girlfriend that she should go ahead to the hotel alone as I had just remembered I had something important I had to do. But she was too clever for me and saw right through that subterfuge, so if I ever want to discover how a deluxe pussy differs from a regular pussy I am going to have to travel back here alone. And I feel I should. No one should die until they have seen a deluxe pussy. I am pretty sure I have only seen normal ones so far and I might be missing out. Unless I have been lucky enough only to see deluxe ones so far and there are loads of regular ones out there that I might chance across if I am not too careful. I had no idea there was such a hierarchy of pussies to contend with.
When my time travelling dad was in Prague he was propositioned by a prostitute, something that greatly amuses him, because I think he saw it as some kind of compliment that he had been selected as a potential client, whilst simultaneously amusing to him, because he would be unlikely to take up the offer, especially when he was with my mum. When he told me the story I lightly mocked him for not realising that prostitutes don't operate on a filter system, preferring the throwing enough shit at a wall and knowing some of it will stick. But having said that I haven't been propositioned by a prostitute all the time I have been here and think he might actually have been right and feel vaguely insulted. Though now I would have to ask them what kind of pussy they had, as I only want the deluxe kind now I know it exists. Perhaps my dad is a celebrity in Prague because of his appearance in that painting. Maybe that wasn't even a prostitute, just a TK Herring art loving groupie.
