The lesson I learn is make my life in the small places I enjoy: in the Orient Express, in the Cafe de Dome. Make my whole life in these places, drinking, watching world go by. The big themes that play such a huge part in other people’s lives, relationships, affairs, marriage, children, house, mortgage, mean absolutely nothing to me. What looms so monumentally large over everything in my life is my little bars, where I can drink, and watch the girls go by. A nice little porn cinema, a nice little bar filled with floozies, some window girls to ogle. A nice strip club to finish the night in.
I think on this trip to Brussels I really realised the Cafe du Dome is over for me — I HATE that Stella. So creamy and not cold. Better to say in hotel with the ice cold watery Jupiler. Or down to Churchill’s for the Primus, that was all right I think and some good people watching. Same in Vienna—I have got to give up on that bar and the soporific Zipfer. Make do with cans of Gösser in my room and the good GoTV music channel. Before: …… WSK in day and Manhattan at night. That is it. MUST try to get to Belvedere, Leopold etc this time. I have got Nuremberg Bella Napoli et al to enjoy on way there, and Frankfurt on stop back. So I can relax in Vienna.
I know in the old days I always used to get to Fifth Avenue late, after 4, because I spent some hours in Café du Dome; but taking a break from the Café du Dome it has I have got to Fifth Avenue too early. I should perhaps try to reinstate the Café du Dome into my routine. One more in the hotel before I go though. No.5. Hope the Cine Paris finally has some new films to sober me up again. No. 6.
Well, the Dome steak was not so great. Very small, dry beef steak, and the béarnaise sauce was quite sickly and had a skin on top. The salad was mixed but dry; in the Café West End it comes soaked in delicious olive oil I think. But its main effect was just to make me want to sleep. I tried to have one more beer in the hotel, then to Cine Paris for Tropical Anal from yesterday and one other film I saw years ago. I felt turned on but by the time I got to Fifth Avenue I had a bad headache and was not in the mood at all. I kept drinking hoping to break through into some drunken wildness but I just got tireder and tireder. Eventually I gave up and returned along Rue des Commerçants. On the way there I had been stopped by a short black girl with most enormous bosoms called Bridget, who offered me everything for 30 euros, even anal, even kissing. I felt a little suspicious, fearing a trap. On the way back she stopped me again and I declined again, before being called back by Beatrice with a “Hello!” I let her detain me for a while this time. I woke up after 10pm but did not feel like going to Empire this time, but in future I think the Empire might well become a good place for a late nightcap if they keep their 2 or 3 real stars.