340 and my dial of drunkness is still only just on halfway point; this time yesterday I was already unconscious, in deep, deep sleep; blacked out after 9 hours of drinking and over-large pizza. Now, still hungry and still ready for some more beer. Empire out of the equation after last night, so I can leave everything on the table now. All out now, leave nothing in reserve.
At least today I got to 3pm still feeling I am in the MIDDLE of a drinking session, rather than already fast asleep like yesterday. Not only did Red Devil not have Jupiler on tap, all the others were off too, so I gave up and went to the toilet, to find the lights were not working in the toilets. Further sign, if sign were needed. Back to La Dernière Minute, last bar in the Rue d’Aerschot.
As always, the enduring miracle, why are we not all swimming in shit? When you think of the amount of shit that human beings are constantly excreting, why our cities do not smell constantly of shit. An effective sewerage system the enduring monument of modern human civilisation. On my 4th beer, and it is starting to tell.
Most people are Blood Type O, or A, or whatever it is; I think they would list me at various times as Blood Type Jupiler, or Blood Type Maes. Blood Type Fosters. The presence of alcohol in my blood is probably almost constant, even though, thanks to work, I do always go 4 or 5 days at a time without any consumption. The trouble comes from my excessive indulgence in my days off. It is a bit crazy; instead of sitting here in the Max Hotel lounge drinking beer, I might as well be sitting in the Cine Paris drinking beer. At least something more stimulating to look at when I am drinking. Still I delay my departure, for one more, one more.
A bright blue-skied April day, not a cloud in the sky, but cold, no more than 9ºC maximum expected today. At least by starting my drinking later today I give myself a chance of being at Fifth Avenue during the more “fertile” hours of 5-8, which means try to avoid it until then. Try to spend the afternoon in the Rue d’Aerschot. Soldiers still patrolling the streets in their pairs.
1120 I arrive in the Max Hotel lounge on my second (and last) day. So as usual yesterday was really ruined by drink—to be precise by starting drinking too early (630am!) and getting to Fifth Avenue too early (130?). I hung on as long as I could hoping someone good would come in but they didn’t, then I grabbed a ridiculously large pizza on the way back to the hotel and that was it; out like a light to 8pm or so. Then the hangover made me just not want to move. Mentally I was trying to force myself to go back for a late session at Fifth, then a late session at Cine Paris before they closed, before on to Empire, but I just lay in bed watching the Real Madrid v Bayern Munich game and when I did force myself to Cine Paris at 1025 he told me they were already closed (he too was watching the game). Straight to Empire, just 4 ordinary girls and only ONE other customer, and crucially no Jennifer. Struggled to finish my one beer then came back to bed. A less than thrilling day in Brussels then but at least it was relatively cheap, though I seem to have got through nearly 90 euros.
In the hotel lounge. 1120. Too early for check in. The blondie passed back under my window, as I was hoping, and has disappeared into the mini-supermarket shop over the road—and not reappeared. Perhaps she lives in the apartments above. Having those 2 pints of beer at St Pancras before 630am (!) was not really a good idea. Here on my first Jupiler I already feel sleepily drunk. Completely sexless, unerotic. Perhaps just go for a very early Cine Paris session, a very early Fifth Avenue session, then back mid-afternoon for a sleep; back out to Fifth after 8 for the late knockings and straight on to Empire.