Saturday, April 09, 2005

A Visit to Drake's

I went home last night at 12.30. This is Max behaving like a sensible non-drug taking, non-smoking, really boring very tired lady. Walk home uneventful except for when the man came running towards me on the bridge and then, when he saw he was making me nervous, slowed down and said, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, don't worry. Do you know where is the Charles Bridge?" Bloody insane tourist. Got home, went to bed. Meanwhile, my paraders stayed out all night.

I woke up at about 7 and found a message from P on my phone. I turned the ringer back on and went back to sleep. P messaged again at 9, so I rang him, got out of bed and left the house (obviously excluding some of the more mundane in-between steps). I stopped at the trafika to buy rolling tobacco and papers, both necessary for rolling spliffs. A tram was coming as I stepped out of the shop, so I hopped on it and rode the 3 stops to Monkey's. Just before I got to the stop, my phone rang and it was Monkey. He and Dalibor were just on their way home, so I promised to be there and rolling by the time they arrived. And I was.

P had decorated the flat in honour of Dalibor, because he is leaving in a couple of days. Lovely hand-made (paper and black magic marker) signs, and beer glasses, biscuits, plants and other paraphernalia arranged around the signs to create shrines. P had also picked up a couple of frogs on his solo rambling walk home; these were in Monkey's big silver pot, more often used in bean-related culinary adventures.

Monkey got the drinks: beer, then green tea, then red wine, then white wine and then Monkey's own strawberry-banana smoothies. Not all at once, but over the course of the next couple of hours. We also smoked a big fatty and talked about the frogs. The big question was whether they were frogs or toads and, if toads, whether we should lick them for the benefit of their psychedelic secretions. Monkey started researching magic toads on the internet. I said, of course, that I did not give a rat's arse whether they were frogs or toads or could make me high or what... I was not going to lick a weird slimy smelly old frog. So Monkey suggested that I lick the female, and offered me a dollar to do so, but I am not so easily bought.

P eventually got into bed, and it must have been after 12 when Monkey, Dali and I left the house. We took the frogs. Monkey and I refused to touch them, but Dali managed to get them into a bag. Our original intention was to take them back to Kinského zahrada, where P had picked them up, but we decided to dump them in Kampa Park, on the Čertovka canal because it was closer and they did not seem very happy in their plastic bag.

Then we made our way to Drake's.

You should know that I told Monkey I did not want to post anything about Drake's on my blog because if P reads my blog he'll go ballistic. He makes it a condition of their relationship that Monkey not go to Drake's. You may understand why as you read on.

Now I have always been curious about Drake's because both of my gay best friends really enjoy the place, but I had never been because it is not like Friends or G-A-Y: it is the kind of establishment that is exclusively for gay men, and women are generally not welcome.

We went in, and no one said a word to me or about me. There was only one other customer in the bar area; I did not notice any reaction from him or the barman. We sat down on one side of the bar and Monkey ordered 3 beers. Aside from the small dance platform with the pole and the gay porno on the tvs in the corners, it was much like any other bar, if not a little dark. A couple of other customers emerged from the mysterious back areas.

Monkey was very determined from the start that I see absolutely all of Drake's but for whatever Monkey reason he did not want to just blatantly show me round. I obstinately refused to wander round on my own. I was not afraid or uncomfortable; it was more out of respect and awareness that I did not really belong there, i.e. that it would not be fair to surprise the gays if they thought they were in a 100% safe, gay, intruderless environment.

Monkey asked the barman for the key to the staff toilets so that I could use the loo in a decent manner. I did not need the loo but I went along with it. Monkey introduced me to Lada, the cleaner at Drake's. Lada let me into the toilet and into the men's to wash my hands afterwards. I thought Monkey would be waiting to take me into the back but he had returned to his beer at the bar. Monkey then insisted that Dale take me into the back while the barman was not paying attention. Dale said he would be delighted to show me round.

It was very dark in the back, and the walls were painted a very dark red. We walked through a little maze of video cabins and glory holes. There were lots of conveniently dark corners, and even a man with unbuttoned jeans sleeping in one of the video areas. The back was otherwise empty at the time. It was interesting, but nothing I had not already heard about repeatedly.

The basement/dungeon was a bit more titillating. Monkey got Lada to take me downstairs: it was closed for cleaning and all the lights were on. The basement was bigger than the back and even more labyrinthine. In the dungeon there were two cages, one with some bondage equipment hanging from a post. There were many cabins and glory holes galore and more tvs playing gay porn and paper towel dispensers mounted intermittently along the walls. I think my favourite part may have been the long space with the raised platform along one wall. The platform had a low wooden fence separating it from the floor, of course with glory holes (5 or 6 of them, I think) cut out of it, at the height of the mouth of a man standing on the floor. I hope you can picture what I mean. I am very glad Lada was with me because I am not sure I would have found my way back out of the basement's twisting corridors.

After another beer at Drake's, we went to Nostitz because I was hungry, not having been on methamphetamines all night. We had got our beers and just ordered our food when Monkey said that Dale was clearly fading fast and that therefore we would need to get more thingies right away. I texted McPontiff (not his real name, and once again apologies to the real McPontiff) and he said he would be where he was for 15 minutes and we could go see him just then. Monkey suggested that I go but I laughed in his face, so he and Dali took off to get the goods.

More beers, some food, some thingies (but not for me: I am being oh so good this week), and then we decided to go home to Monkey's to try that second spliff I had rolled, that was sitting on the table waiting for us. That was probably about 3.30 or 4. Now it is late afternoon, nearly 5.30, and all my gay paraders are asleep in the flat around me.

The parade will continue in due course...


Devastatin' Dave said...

Sometimes, Monkey likes to drink the beer. In Jackson Hole, Monkey liked to drink the beer with his friend, Chigger.

Monkey's Max said...

Monkey does like to drink the beer, and to do so many other things. Who is Chigger? Is that another name for DD?

Devastatin' Dave said...

Nope, Chigger is not DD. The only other nickname I go by is my hip hop name - Snoop Dave Flava Flav. Chigger was a very weird boy that used to room with Monkey. Think of a gaunt version of Elijah Wood - that is Chigger.

Monkey's Max said...

I shall have to ask Monkey about Chigger then. I could not ask Monkey today because Monkey has gone underground, but only temporarily, I am sure. Standard Monkey behaviour.

I will ask about the hip hop name: How did you acquire it? and Do you find it useful?

Devastatin' Dave said...

I got the hip hop name from my HS friend, Nancy, after I gave her the hip hop name Fancy N.

It's only useful when I'm chillin' in my crib with my hoes.

knottyboy said...

I've got to get my head out of my ass and let monkey take me to these places. The closest I came was the Tom bar in Berlin. I let before I got groped or finger banged at the coat check. Such the frigging apple polisher. What the hell am I afraid of?

Monkey's Max said...

DD, hoes as in gardening implements?

Devastatin' Dave said...

Uh....yeah. Gardening equipment. By the way, does anyone know the correct plural form of ho?

Monkey's Max said...

DD, I have been checking ebonics dictionaries online. Not surprisingly, most of them neglect to give plural forms. However, one of the 10 or so I looked at did give a plural form: hoes.

So you were right, but I was still funny (at least in my cheeky world).