Why has Pink Floyd been featuring so heavily in my life over the last couple of weeks? It started when I borrowed a special edition of Q magazine devoted to the Floyd. That got me listening to them again for the first time in something like half a decade. I rediscovered the sheer perfection of Animals, but I still can’t dig on the post-Waters Floyd, and the post-Floyd Waters.
It continues – last night I hooked up with Chris and a couple of his friends at the Pink Floyd Cafe on the corner of Americka and Zahrebska. And right now I’m sitting in Villa Incognito, chilling after having finished Chapter 7 of the Russo-Chechen conflict book, listening to Floyd’s last live album.
The Pink Floyd Cafe is situated in a very attractive neighbourhood in Vinohrady, and is part of a hub of cool bars, cafes and restaurants. In the intersection that the cafe faces there is a gorgeous new fountain with three or four asymmetrically arranged fish-like sculptures that spout water into the fountain. I suppose it’s kind of Floydesque itself.
The cafe is a clean (almost too clean) place with plenty of framed shots of the Floyd in all its incarnations lining the walls, fast and friendly service, and good prices. It also has a very pleasant beer garden amid an ample amount of trees (nice alliteration, eh?). Though nearly full, the garden was very quiet, so quiet that I felt like I had to whisper when I got there. If the owners set up a proper surround sound system out there to play music by their namesake, the Pink Floyd Cafe would approach paradise status. As it is, it’s definitely a place I’d like to drink at again.
However, we were in the mood for something a little livelier, and we found what we wanted at the Popo Cafe Petl on Italska. Loud, jumping, stuffy, smoky, full of babes and offering free WiFi Internet access, PCP is my kind of place. We stuck around for a beer and a mojito (only CZK 85) then moved on to U Zpevacku.
Watching Mike the bartender and Mad Chris (not “my” Chris, but another UZ regular) riff off each other in an inspired bit of comedic nonsense (both are part-time actors and have had roles in a number of feature films shot in Prague) got me thinking about how much I dig UZ. You’ll always find good people there on both sides of the bar.
After Mike gave us the boot so that he could close up shop, we decided to go to Batalion to kill time before morning transport started up again. It’s odd that I’ve been going there so often lately – Batalion’s always been one of those bars I’ve gone to when there were no other options available at four or five in the morning.
Last night proved to be a good night to go. The music was great – very danceable alt-rock, some cool 80s stuff, along with some Czech rock hits. Chris and I sat in a corner by a dancefloor, caught a little flack from the ultra-pierced bartender for smoking a J in there, listened to the tunes, and watched the crowd. One beer after our arrival, Chris says to me, “Hey, check out those two girls.”
I looked in the direction he was pointing and saw two very young and attractive girls heavy petting in the basement’s middle room. If they were just doing it for show, they were doing a damn good job. One was on the heavy side but had a really sultry face. The second was good-looking in a jolie-laide way – big lips, gummy smile, bedroom eyes. I reckon they were from Italy or Spain or Croatia or somewhere south. They definitely weren’t Czech.
After the stopped, I noticed that it was my round, so I went to the bar to get a couple more beers. On the way back, I see the two kissing cuties, along with a really hot friend, this one a petite girl with brown dreadlocks. The girls started necking again as I passed by. I stopped and watched. Dreadlocks says to me, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I said, raising my glass to her and her friends.
The two kissers stopped, smiled at me, and then the three of them grinned mischievously at each other, then proceeded to engage in a three-way spit-swap. Though it was more amusing than hot, this was a real bonafide snog.
“Hey, Chris!” I shouted over my shoulder, “C’mere and check this out!”
Chris sauntered over, stood beside me and said, “Holy shit.”
“Cheers,” I said, passing him his beer.
A few sips later, the girls’ little show came to an end. “Thanks girls,” I said.
They giggled, bowed to our applause and went back to their table and we went back to ours. No follow-through for me, of course – I’m very happily engaged, remember.
A while later we decided to drink at the bar. After ordering another round, I noticed the jolie-laide girl and her plump friend standing beside me. The plump girl was pulling down her top and scooping one of her tits out, licking her finger and rubbing her nipple. Her friend was groping the other tit and the two girls stared intently at each other. All this was happening right in front of the bar, at the front of the room.
“Jesus‚??” said Chris.
“Christ‚??” I said.
Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was my lack of interest, or a combination of the two, but this nipple rubbing and groping got a bit silly after a few minutes, and I think the girls realised this and left us to our beers. Then they left with their crew.
As they walked up the stairs, I said to Chris, “Now why the hell weren’t there any girls like that when I was in high school and university? And if there were, why the hell didn’t I ever meet any of them?”
God, I love this city‚?? And now, Jana, Villa Incognito’s barmaid, has just put the Floyd’s Dogs (my all-time fave Floyd track) on the stereo. I feel blessed.