So this curiously sexless sojourn in Brussels nears its end. Not feeling in the mood for anything naughty at any point. Maybe too anaesthetised with lovely ice cold watery Jupiler beer; maybe too many things to do back at home making me anxious to be back and get on with them; I don’t know. A brief stop in Cine Paris, then up to Rue d’Aerschot—Mariana the pick of the windows again. Her bosoms are extraordinary. But even with her I did not feel at all tempted to stay. A Brussels Grill Steak then back to bed. 8pm now, and I try to prepare to go out again.
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?
Rain is predicted for later, which will be a relief after all these hot days. Let today, my last day, be a day of food—for Brussels Grill steak. And not think of anything else. If anything else happens, so be it; but I have done quite a lot on this holiday (Inna and Mariana), so let me relax today. Then quickly I force myself to Cine Paris, Jimmy, Fifth Avenue, then quickly I can get to where I really want to go—(I think) Rue d’Aerschot, Sexyworld kino and perhaps Mariana (again). Quickly I can then come back for a Brussels Grill steak and bed.
238 already. Not much time to have my steak, get back to hotel, get my taxi and get to Eurostar; but should be OK. This brief visit to Brussels makes me want to stay for a long one again—3 or 4 days here; just to relax and take it easy. 240. Need to be back at hotel by 255 latest!
Brussels Grill looked packed so I came back to Boston Steak House for the first time. It is a bit emptier but, as I expected, more expensive! Everything is extra [turns out when I got the bill it wasn’t, even though I am sure the menu says it is]. Salad that comes with the steak in Brussels Grill is an extra cost here. As is the sauce. But—the waitress is absolutely gorgeous. Curvy voluptuous young brunette. 10/10. What to say. Brussels. The England result cheered me so much, so I was in a positive mood. Cine Paris was OK. Not great, but not bad. Just pleased to see it is still there, despite rumours of its imminent demise. Then the street girls were pretty fantastic—my old “friend” Beatris, with cleavage spilling everywhere, her colleague on the other side of the road, similarly; my old friend black Bridget massive breasts bulging on next corner; 5th Avenue was poor, I’m afraid, though it felt good to be back there. NO stars left—Andrea left long ago, Lucy came & went so quickly, and now even Inna gone. One blonde girl, just going to a room with someone, was interesting, but that was it. Window girls, post-6pm, nothing special. So nothing special at all, but enough to keep me trying.
716pm. I came back to sleep after my Brussels Grill steak but couldn’t sleep, so I’m up again and drinking another Jupiler. I want to see another naked woman tonight. Zinip has given me the taste for it. Beatrice? Brigit? Inna? Or just make do with the topless Empire girls. They should be open in 90 minutes or so.
All the way to the end of Rue d’Aerschot and Zinip—big mega-bosomed Turkish Zinip. She was simpatico. I like her. Just 30 euros. Back to Brussels Grill. I didn’t see her come in to Café Jimmy earlier, but when I looked around there was Beatrice—black coat, black trousers; always surprises me how voluptuous she is. She didn’t even talk to me this time. In Fifth Avenue no one for me, too early even for Inna. Again, I’m not even getting bread & butter. I pinch some from another table. I’d like to go back to Fifth Avenue before sleeping, and maybe go back for Beatrice, but after this steak I’ll probably just be ready for bed. Bearnaise or mayonnaise, said the waitress, mishearing my sauce. Now I understand why I got mayonnaise last time. 457pm. Hopefully I can get up and out to Empire tonight. Tomorrow? I suppose I could keep Beatrice till tomorrow, last thing I do before I go home. Cine Paris had a half decent film—Anisa & Lola at Nurse’s School, and I was undisturbed by the perverts. And the upstairs cinema was closed, for some unknown reason.