Third beer begun, 140pm. Overcast today but starting to heat up. Honestly don’t think I’m going to do anything naughty on this trip. I always say I’m going to come here like a rutting stag, but in reality my reticence and lack of lust are dominant. To feel lust, it has got to be random, and completely unexpected—like the white vest girl on the boat. I certainly could have —— her like a rutting stag if I’d had the opportunity. Not seen any soldiers yet. Let us not forget it was just 4 weeks ago some loser tried to detonate his bomb in the Central Railway Station, at 8 o’clock at night!
Thankfully the presence of a McDonald’s 20 yards away has lured the American ladies away. I am only being rude jokingly; they are very pretty, and I would not mind a McDonald’s myself but am trying to be strong and stay hungry. A full stomach is the enemy of Eros and will kill any last chance I have of my erotic flame, poor little pilot light, sparking into any explosion whatsoever. Or if not explosion, at least some chance of heat. Probably though I’ll just stay here in the hotel and drink myself into a stupor. A Jupiler stupor. A Maes haze (or Maes farce, if I pronounce it correctly).
I didn’t have any carnal contact because I want to get home cheaply (my sub-conscious taking the upper hand). But now I want to extend my holiday and hope before I return home to get some carnal contact (my drink defeating my sub-conscious). Madness. This is the way I live my life. This constant battle inside me between my Eros (Devil) and my Angel (sub-conscious). 115 On my 5th, 6th, 7th, god knows what can of Jupiler of the day already. If I just forget about Eurostar, and stay another night tonight, that is just 45 euros (£38). A very small hit, in itself. As always the option of a coach home. Cheap. Cheap. Painful as f–king hell.
So, yes, I went to Cine Paris, and felt nothing. Went to Jimmy, and Fifth Avenue, and felt nothing. So, rather than flog this dead horse even further, I came straight to Brussels Grill. Maybe I will go on to Rue d’Aerschot afterwards; I doubt it. The horse has bolted. No point locking the stable doors now, my cow. My Eros has gone, sodden, like a drowned rat. Nothing left. Still early, 430pm, though, Friday night. If even Cine Paris and Fifth Avenue do not arouse me, then what chance do I have? I am mentally dead, subdued; as I say, sodden. Nothing can spark when it is so flooded, flooded with 5 solid days of booze. Even before the steak arrives, I am thinking about another Domino’s Pizza. Or a burger in the bar next to my hotel. 1659 This has been an UNUSUALLY long wait for my steak. Because I tried to order before I even sat down? No, she said, you must sit down first. Did she deliberately delay my food because of that?
I was dizzy with erotic anticipation in the weeks & days leading up to my trip and I wondered whether I would be able to carry it with me and still feel the same when I got there; as I suspected, no. During my stay in Berlin I felt almost completely a-sexual. But as always it just takes one beautiful bottom or one beautiful pair of bosoms to get me in the mood again. I hope it happens in Brussels. My train to Koln is already 21 minutes late, giving me just 13 minutes to spare to catch my connection. I sat drinking my one beer surrounded by floozies in King George, Club 77, Monte Carlo and Sissi Bar and felt completely unmoved and unaroused by all of them. I hope something happens in Brussels to shake me out of my torpor. This is madness.
So yes a dire evening in Brussels; but mostly my fault. I was tired, I arrived late. Time I got to Fifth Avenue almost everyone had gone. Empire was like a tomb. No other customers. On the ICE to Nuremberg now; changing at Frankfurt. Couple of minutes till we leave. We will see if I can salvage any eros from this holiday at all; even if it is manual only!