In the meanwhile the summer is doing its business as usual. Every once in a while summer rains break up the predominantly hot days and so now and then a cool sea breeze full of oxygen makes you go light in your head. Clear thinking, peculiarly enough, is not happening for the most of us since spring. Successes taste different. The smells of friendship, love, danger and risk are in the air.
A lot of us come back from more beautiful and warm places. Places where things like passion, temperament and love have a complete different meaning and significance. Places where we might never come back again, and where we adapted our behaviour there to that knowledge. With our return stories come back with us. Stories of large and small dimensions. Strong and weak stories, but also stories that deserve several pages in a novel…
And me? I went to Serbia. And no, I did not behave like I would never see the place again. Many, many more times I will visit this place. I will find a way to stay there more than in any other place on our beautiful little globe. Which reminds me of a particular moment…
It was an early Saturday morning. Most Belgrade rooftops were complimented by an orange glow. It must have been the sixth time that holiday I saw the sun rise and, I assure you, it was not because I woke up that early. That morning I was walking back from bringing a special girl home after an odd night’s out.
Temperatures did not drop below 28 degrees Celsius the past week, not even at night. This particular morning however, a perfect temperature was surrounding my skin. While I was making up my mind whether I was feeling, hearing or smelling happiness, my heart told me this was the place it calls home. A shiver ran down my spine.
Walking and then stopping at a corner to look up once more, I realized I still had to find my friend before we could both drop into coma on our beds. A quote passed my mind: “No matter how you shake and dance, the last few drops land on your pants”.
Simply brilliant. I didn’t remember where I heard it though. I decided to pee against the corner I was standing at. When you have to go, you have to go. Shaking and dancing I looked up my friend’s name in my phone. Joe. Joe Srbija. Joe’s Bitch. Yes… that’s how her number was saved in my phone. Why I couldn’t call him on his phone was a wild guess for me. Nevertheless I pressed the green button. She picked up the phone and I told her I’d be there in a few.
Trying to catch a sniff of pljeskavice while passing Loki I saw them at a distance standing outside. I waved. They waved back. As I came closer I asked them how it was. She looked at me a little suspicious and told me she was sure I already knew what happened.
‘I do. But did you have fun? Did it feel good?’ I asked. It did. I asked her if she wanted a last kiss, at which she replied positively. I moved my lips to hers. She turned her head away. Clearly she did not appreciate the joke. As she leaned over to kiss my friend I noticed her right breast showed a bit of nipple sticking out above her top.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ he said. He didn’t, but he assured me she had his e-mail address.
While we were searching for a taxi, Joe told me all about his little adventure. The blowjob ranked in his top five. And the top five did not mean by five different girls, the blowjob ranked in the top five of times. He especially liked it because she was a highly educated girl.
‘Girls who can do it like that in the Netherlands are usually pretty dirty, uneducated type of girls, or just disciplined but still a little dumb’, he claimed.
‘With this one you can at least talk before, after and in between.’
It all took place in the entrance hall of her building, as she was afraid to wake up her roommate. Joe liked the setting. ‘The old communist entrance hall’, as he referred to it, was ranked top notch in his book. However, in between the action her roommate came in. While both laughing about the image of my friend trying to (as fast a he could) get his tool back in the swimming pants he wore that night, we walked up towards the Kalemegdan citadel in search of a taxi there. Still none around. The roommate, as the story goes, was laughing really hard, while Joe’s girl, I believe her name was Tanja, got pretty angry. Why didn’t she let her know she wasn’t home? What could have been if they had access to her bedroom?
I didn’t care… I had something different on my mind. All I could think about was the girl I just brought home and her enchanting pit black hair…
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