1220! It’s snowing! It’s started. So today a day for joyous drinking, joyous eating, and maybe a little bit of naughtiness on the side. The beer starts talking out of my mouth again! 6th beer. No desire to move, or go anywhere. 7th beer. No desire at all to go to Cine Paris today, as much as I exult in its continued existence. The sooner I get to Fifth Avenue and get away the sooner I can have a lovely Brussels Grill steak and/or Domino’s Pizza.
I think the very IDEA of going home within my planned budget offends my sense of devilish Dionysian wildness—and if you do not cross over into devilish Dionysian wildness when on your travels, then there is no point in travelling. Trying to save money when on holiday (for me) is so completely self defeating and renders the whole holiday pointless. Beer is talking. Beer is winning. Skies turning slate grey. The snow will start soon. 123pm.
Even though the two Cine Paris films were rubbish, how lovely it is to have a porn cinema to sit in, and enjoy a cold beer at the same time. Even though the Empire girls were rubbish (Jennifer excepted), how lovely to have a strip club to stroll to at 1 o’clock in the morning just around the corner from my hotel. Even though there have been no stars at Fifth Avenue this time (Inna, Leyla, Diane), how lovely to sit all afternoon and evening in a bar full of floozies, floozies who do NOT bother you or hustle for business.
My first beer of the “evening shift” completed. 9pm. When on holiday I want to be randy, and fuck like a rabbit; but it hasn’t happened this time. Rarely does. I have to see someone quite special before I feel like that. Like my first sight of Lucy in Fifth Avenue last year; first sight of Adelina in Manhattan in Vienna last year. In fact, this year I have not had any moments like that. Just take my time tonight. Walk down to the Justice Palace and Rue de Livourne as slowly as I like; and as slowly as I like coming back. There is no hurry.