We got back to the hotel room at a few minutes and some seconds past six O'clock-ish. Vana had once again primed herself for bed while I rifled through my meagre belongings - nothing was missing from my suitcase, what a relief, but what a shame that we had to leave so early when I was just beginning to enjoy the band.
“That was fun, I haven't had that much fun in a long time.” Vana said as she stared beyond the mouldy ceiling.
“It was good, yes, very enjoyable, the band performed with authority and escorted the audience to a comfortable place in the imagination” I felt as if I was giving a book review.
Vana chuckled, “We can always go back later.” She patted the bed, and I decided to use the toilet.
The bowl hadn't been flushed, I gagged a little as I aimed my pee around the floating faeces, until I remembered that I could have forgotten to flush earlier, and then I relaxed the leash on my urine and turned it into like a fairground game to try to submerge the logs. “No giant teddy!” I giggled girlishly to myself while I pulled the chain. Suddenly, to the corner of my eye, I noticed something glossy against the wall. It was a porno magazine. That wasn't there earlier! The turds spun in the murky liquid, then disappeared. I felt ill, I had used someone else's creations for my own sick fun. I was a disgusting person doing horrid things for my own personal pleasure. Then the realization of being in a hotel for perverts hit me, smack like a fish that thought my face was water.
I stumbled out of the toilet, slightly queasy. People were doing nasty things behind these closed doors. I need to talk to someone. The hallway strained to maintain a perspective, my room seemed far away. It felt like a million cogs were spinning too fast in my head, churning out steam from all the friction of unlubricated wheels. I reached the door and wrapped my hand around the icy door knob. My olfactory system had become over simulated by the claustrophobic musty smell of the place that had taken root in my nostrils and begun to claim my brain like a dense suffocating jungle. My vision dissolved as black creepers grew from the edges.
Within the next minute, I was gazing at a female version of me, and she was looking at me. Her voice was distant at first but gradually became closer and clearer as I felt myself become more grounded in familiarity. It wasn't me, it was Wana, and as my senses came back to me, I realized that I was lying on the floor of the hallway. “Tog? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
“Hey,” I heard my voice was strange and tired, “How long ...”
“A couple of minutes,” Her eyes searched for signs of damage, “I heard some noise and found you on the floor.”
Music blared from a bar in a street nearby. The sound of cars and people expanded into my awareness. “Don't worry about me, I'm fine.” I smiled weakly, but it felt genuine. “Let's get out of here – I need a drink!”
“Are you sure?” She helped me up onto my feet.
“I think so.”
Wana took me to a quiet pub through the forgotten small winding streets of the city away from the throng of party-seekers. Moving through those tangled, grey, dirty streets made me forget about what happened back at the hotel, or thinking about the safety of my belongings, instead I let the city suck me into its capillaries. I'm on holiday, I reminded myself.
The sky was already dark, and the warm glow of incandescent lamps punctuated the cold blue buildings. This strange city had presented me its first task, to follow Wana, and trust that she was not going to lead me to be ambushed by a gang of blood-thirsty robbers. My mind was still functional yet I felt detached from reality. I just wanted somewhere to sit down, and as I thought of all the nice things that awaited me at the destination, like a comfortable chair and a glass of red wine, we arrived. Wana must have walked me in a circle because the pub was just a few doors away from our hotel – Anyhow, I was too tired to argue, I couldn't have walked another step, so I allowed her to lead me to a plush armchair and ordered me a glass of red wine from the bar.
Gradually, the surroundings sunk into my senses, and I realized that we were in quite a crowded place. There was lively chatter and laughing around me. There weren't many places to sit, and the chair that I sat in was still warm – Wana later told me that an old man gave up the seat because I seemed so weak, that explained the crazy elderly guy crunched up on the floor between two sofas who wouldn't accept my seat offer.
I caught a glimpse of a chef tossing a pizza base into the air as a door swung open than shut behind the bar counter. Wana waved her hand in front of my eyes, “Hello, over here Mister Sleepy Face!” she called playfully. She was sitting on a coffee table opposite me. “Don't worry Tog, you will get used to this place.” She steadied my glass holding hand, I had forgotten about the wine. “There are things you will discover about Biggadoo that you won't find in any tourist brochure or internet website.” I took a sip of red wine, it tasted good. A couple of tall provocatively dressed women walked towards us, one of them winked at me, then whispered in the others ear, and they both looked at me and giggled. As they walked past, I noticed that they had square jaws and wide shoulders, and adam apples. “This city, is very open-minded, it is a place where you can be who you want to be, and nobody will question that.” A look of pure wickedness crept across her face, “You aren't aware that I am man, right?”
The news didn't bother me, but the fact that she expected me to react when I was being calm did make me feel self-conscious, so I ended up being lead into acting astonished, “Oh! What!?”
“Don't be angry with me,” I over acted, “I should have told you earlier, but thought that you knew that you checked into a transvestite whore house.”
Then I was genuinely surprised, “I did?!”
to be continued ...
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