313 In Brussels Grill. Rumsteak & small beer. 319 still waiting. Apparently this Sunday the Cine Paris has a live girl performing, so I will head back to have a look at her. So hungry now. 330. Still waiting my steak. It is busy, I must say, getting busier by the minute. OK 1532 the table that ordered food after me just had their 2 dishes delivered.
So 5th Avenue had Inna, the star as always, Brazilian Aisha I always like to look at, the black bob Eastern European who is a bit too thin for my taste, and another long dark-haired girl was OK, but that was it. No competition for Inna for sure, though she claimed I was her first customer of the day. She says she lives in a flat by the ——. A bright blue-skied Sunday midday in Brussels. Wish it was dark & stormy & rainy as always. My soul soars and spirit flies when it is dark & stormy & rainy. Feel meek and self conscious when it is fine & blue-skied & sunny. The weather affects me greatly. Are other people like this? I mean, I know normal people feel really happy when it is bright & sunny, but I am the opposite. I am happy when it is dark & raining. Thunder? Oh! My dream.
1230 Fourth beer. Don’t know what to do on a Sunday really. Not sure I’ve ever been here on a Sunday before. Might just enjoy a lot of beer, pop into Cine Paris, then starving hungry enjoy a Brussels Grill steak, or Domino’s Pizza, or both. Sleep till tonight, and, er, repeat. No point going to Empire or Gascogne on a Sunday night, I suppose. Shame I missed my Saturday night opportunity.
So, 11:53 Sunday morning (or possibly 10:53 Sunday morning—the clocks went back in Belgium last night and I’m not sure if my phone automatically updated or not). I missed out on Saturday night unfortunately; I was looking forward to a Saturday night Empire or Gascogne: hoping at least there would be a nice crowd & good atmosphere; but after leaving 5th I just grabbed a lovely Domino’s Pizza and back to hotel then sleep; right the way through to 6am. A wee then slept some more through to 9. Now on my second Jupiler of the day. Lovely to see Inna at 5th on my arrival yesterday evening; we had a nice chat about many things, none of which I will repeat, as I cannot remember any of it. At least this time I do remember being in the room with her, and have some visual memories stuck in my head; some pictures in my head at least. The piano is gone and as I stood at the back where it used to be, she was sitting in the chair in front of me, her back to me, in that long black halter-neck jumpsuit she wears. Her jet black hair falling around her alabaster white skin reminding me of those old little black inkpots you used to get at school, to fill the inkwells with! Yes I am old enough to remember inkwells at school! Like an explosion of black ink against her white skin. I became aroused just looking at her back so knew I would have to do something with her again.