Go-Go
Morten, aka the Sportsman, is getting married, therefor 4 friends (The Johnsens, Mogen, and Sporto) came down from Oslo for the weekend. It was supposed to be a weekend of action, but bad planning, slothfulness, and Amund and the Sportsman staying up until 6 slowed down the action on Saturday. The first plan was to go bowling, so I dragged the group across the bridge and along the shore for a kilometre or so, while they complained about why we couldn't take a taxi, even though the weather was fine, jævle nordmenn, besatt av taxier. After a pleasant walk we came to the bowling alley, only to find there was some kind of league championship. Who the fuck takes part in a bowling league? Don't they have anything better to do on a Saturday, all these geeks with their bowling shirts, the ones you laugh at in second hand shops, and the women with their matching pleated sports skirts, coz you wanna get maximum leg movement when you are going for those hardcore shots. Then we walked back to the other alley near my house, but that was booked, so it was a pub. We found a pub that looked ok, although it was full of old alcoholics drinking and smoking on a Saturday afternoon, after a few beers it was time for a curry. There is one restaurant that I've been to a few times which I thought was nice and well priced, of course as seems to always be the story, the service had turned to shit. The guy brought all the wrong dishes, and when asked why the garlic naan had no garlic he just replied that it did. Kind of bums me out when I find a nice restaurant and then the give real shit service, coz I feel obliged not to go back, even though I liked the food. Guess that's the good thing with the tipping system in the US, here it doesn't make a difference, they earn a shitload no matter. After that we ended up back at my place drinking and playing darts, then I guess too much beer and curry took me out of the game and I died in the bed.
A few hours later I was awoken, undeterred by the belly, it was a buck's night, and we had to do something, so we headed down to the red light district looking for trouble. We walked past a few seedy places looking like lost sheep while no one could make even a half arsed decision about where to go, eventually we settled for "Madam Pimm's", my reason for supporting this choice was that it is under my friend Lars' apartment and I've always been curious to see what the hell was in there, the signs say something like go-go, strip club, wet show, whatever that is, and some other things. Alas, inside it was even worse than I expected, of course being in the same building as Lars, it had basically the same layout as his apartment, a medium sized room where his lounge room is, but then there where some stairs up to a half level where the kitchen is. The main difference was that this place was full of hooker/strippers, although they seemed to be doing more hooking than stripping. I bought a small way over priced beer as some African girl with massive tits and a dress that was more a singlet took my hand and asked if I would buy her a beer, when I asked her why she didn't get them for free since she worked here she lost interest. So there we were, the hookers realised we were cheap skates, only here to lollygag, and sat on the other side of the room trying to avoid us. They were all foreign, most of them Asian, one of them started attack the Sportsman, trying to climb over him, but she lost interest too when he refused to put any money larger than coins down her pants. Suddenly the curtains opened and there was a stage with a motorbike and the fattest of the women, we took a seat and watched her strip, this was all we wanted, something cheap and nasty to make us feel like we were on a bender. She looked kind of like a man, and I was sure when she took it all off something would fall out, but no, the only thing falling was her beer belly, then she straddled the motorbike for a while before the curtains closed there. By this time my beer was empty, so I sat holding the glass, hoping to get the most the entry charge. The others started motioning to leave as a better looking girl started dancing, but she didn't strip, just danced there, boring. Beside us were some young guys, and the fatter stripper was with them now, I could hear them throwing different prices back and forth and talking about the back room, then she went and got them a bottle of champagne, the price sounded like more than I make in a day, guess the girls can't complain. Madam Pimm's turned out really to be a kind of waiting room for a brothel, so we went back out and wandered around some more before deciding home was the best place, we are true party animals.
It's very much a streamlining of the whole pickup process, normally guys go out, spend all this money, talk a whole bunch of crap and hope that it might end up with some action, but with the hooker thing all the chance is taken out of the game, just spend the money and you get the action, guess that's why it's the world's oldest profession, if it can be called that. Still I can't see through it, when you know the woman doesn't really give a fuck about you, and is only after the money, it gets kind of flat.
A few hours later I was awoken, undeterred by the belly, it was a buck's night, and we had to do something, so we headed down to the red light district looking for trouble. We walked past a few seedy places looking like lost sheep while no one could make even a half arsed decision about where to go, eventually we settled for "Madam Pimm's", my reason for supporting this choice was that it is under my friend Lars' apartment and I've always been curious to see what the hell was in there, the signs say something like go-go, strip club, wet show, whatever that is, and some other things. Alas, inside it was even worse than I expected, of course being in the same building as Lars, it had basically the same layout as his apartment, a medium sized room where his lounge room is, but then there where some stairs up to a half level where the kitchen is. The main difference was that this place was full of hooker/strippers, although they seemed to be doing more hooking than stripping. I bought a small way over priced beer as some African girl with massive tits and a dress that was more a singlet took my hand and asked if I would buy her a beer, when I asked her why she didn't get them for free since she worked here she lost interest. So there we were, the hookers realised we were cheap skates, only here to lollygag, and sat on the other side of the room trying to avoid us. They were all foreign, most of them Asian, one of them started attack the Sportsman, trying to climb over him, but she lost interest too when he refused to put any money larger than coins down her pants. Suddenly the curtains opened and there was a stage with a motorbike and the fattest of the women, we took a seat and watched her strip, this was all we wanted, something cheap and nasty to make us feel like we were on a bender. She looked kind of like a man, and I was sure when she took it all off something would fall out, but no, the only thing falling was her beer belly, then she straddled the motorbike for a while before the curtains closed there. By this time my beer was empty, so I sat holding the glass, hoping to get the most the entry charge. The others started motioning to leave as a better looking girl started dancing, but she didn't strip, just danced there, boring. Beside us were some young guys, and the fatter stripper was with them now, I could hear them throwing different prices back and forth and talking about the back room, then she went and got them a bottle of champagne, the price sounded like more than I make in a day, guess the girls can't complain. Madam Pimm's turned out really to be a kind of waiting room for a brothel, so we went back out and wandered around some more before deciding home was the best place, we are true party animals.
It's very much a streamlining of the whole pickup process, normally guys go out, spend all this money, talk a whole bunch of crap and hope that it might end up with some action, but with the hooker thing all the chance is taken out of the game, just spend the money and you get the action, guess that's why it's the world's oldest profession, if it can be called that. Still I can't see through it, when you know the woman doesn't really give a fuck about you, and is only after the money, it gets kind of flat.
posted by Brett at 10:09
1 Comments:
Februar?....
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