Beer At The Gay Bar

"One beer, please", I said while looking around, trying to adjust my sight to the dim light and the laser beams cutting the air with a brilliant display of slickness.

"5 euro", said the bartender, a 30-something man wearing nothing but leather and sporting a hairy chest. I reached for the money into my bag and handed him some coins. "Keep the change", I replied.

I grabbed a stool and sat down. I sat strategically facing the dance floor. After all, it was my first time in a gay venue in Amsterdam, and I was going to enjoy it.

Everything was so different than what I was used to. The people. The tourists, the streets and the rain. I took a sip on the cold beer I had just bought and continued to satisfy my sight with the people sweating to the rhythm of house music.

My companion disappeared as soon as we walked into Church. I was not looking for him. he was looking for something I did not desired. I just wanted out from whatever life I had been leading until then. I was there to enjoy the view and that was what I was doing. The scene was everything that I had seen in the movies. But, this time I was there.

I continued to drink my beer. I was too high to do more things at the same time. After having washed the dryness of my mouth down with a sip of cold beer I continued to look at the characters in the club. Eye contact was something so easy to achieve in here, unlike in the Czech Republic. 

I was high, and I was working my way into drunkenness. The lights, the music and the people there made the whole experience so enjoyable. People danced and moved in such a classy way. Their style was totally different. 

"One more beer, please", I said. The scruffy bartender, dancing to the beat of  International Love, began pouring beer into two pint glasses. Soon, he put both on the bar and claimed his 5 euro. 

"Oh, I just wanted one glass".

"Happy hour, two drinks for the price of one", he replied.

So there I was, with two pints of beer. Sitting and enjoying the show, when my friend, out of nowhere grabs me by the arm and tells me: "Let's check upstairs", so I give him my extra glass of beer and we move into the crowd.

I'm Afraid Of Americans began to play. The lurking eyes of people in the center of this volcano sought to interact with mine. I followed obediently. The lead of my companion jumped from pushing our way out of the multitude to walk in a kind of dance like crawl. 

My friend was good. And he knew it. Soon, all the attention was directed at this little act he had gotten me into. And I wanted to piss.

The beer and whatever else i had ingested that night had worked their way out of me. And we kept on moving. Like the newest freak in the circus. Not that I didn't enjoy it. I did. I tried my best to follow the snake like movements of Glev. I was never a good dancer, but sometimes my ungodly movements would attract some attention.

We were near the toilets. Out of the sexy mob behind. I saw darkness in the restroom. So I kept on following Glev. 

On the right you could see the stainless steal stair case. 

Glev stopped and turned around.

"This is the best part of Amsterdam", he said, "well, for me it's a ride", he concluded. He pulled me up the stairs and in less time that it could have taken for me to count the steps up, we were there.

It didn't take long for Glev to disappear, as he always did. He was also often late, but just in time for a big entrance. The laser lights radiated and got caught inside the drops of sweat from the crowd below, reflecting their beauty all across the night.

Instinctively, I followed the sounds that were familiar to me only to find Glev being finger-fucked by a man wearing a blue latex glove. "Fuck", I thought, "I need to fucking piss."

Glev was riding some kind of leatherish headless horse, with the right index finger of some guy in his insides. I headed down to the toilets. I the knew I had to piss, but the lack of light of that place kind of scared me.

Once inside, I realized that no one was there. 

"What a pity", I thought.

Hrms Etc

27.06.13