invasion of europe
Episode #11
I forgot about porn
The final real day ends with me saying goodbye to some Munich folks on their way out to a pub crawl and me getting on a train. I wanted Berlin, I wanted Paris, I even wanted Prague, but money and timing will only allow an early return to Frankfurt, Europe´s waiting room.
The train trip is fine and I get into town around 1. The hostel is one block away so I am not too worried about getting there in one piece. But as I leave the train station, the faint glow of neon twinkles in the corner of my eye. I´m tired so I don´t give it much attention, but the closer I get to my hostel, the brighter and more obvious the neon signs. "PORN!" "GIRLS" "BOYS" "SCAT" "LIVE" and modestly sitting in between a gay porn/live sex show and a porn shop with eastern european women that you can pee on for forty euro, is my hostel. Up three flights of stairs and in to an empty dorm room. It´s built for twenty and I am the only one in there. Which gets my mind a reelin´. This is where the hookers take their dates.
Before I can think too deeply about it, I am sleeping. The sounds of men fucking each other in the alley behind the hostel softly singing me to sleep. For the record - I am not sure what language they were humping in, but it was funny. It sounded like the song "Rock me Amadeus" but with occasional butt slapping.
The next day I wake to find two people brushing their teeth and getting out of the room as fast as possible, I never heard them come in and they are gone before I even see their faces. Perhaps it was the Amadeus couple, or maybe just two guys from Detroit (well, if that were true, then why were they brushing their teeth).
Each hostel offers a breakfast, of sorts. Usually cereal and coffee. It works for me. When I get to the lobby, the dude that works there is pissed at me and yelling. It turns out that I snore so loudly that the two guys changed rooms. I wonder if this is why I can´t make friends in Europe? I´m sure it isn´t me but the constant sounds of men humping that scared them away, but I don´t care, I just want coffee.
A quick shower and it´s a day in Frankfurt.....
Goethe Haus. The man who wrote Fautus. The story about a doctor who sells his soul to the devil. If you ever spend any time in Frankfurt, selling your soul to the devil just might cost you forty euros. There is NOTHING to do in Frankfurt.
Frankfurt can boast this... Busiest airport in Europe. Busiest train station in Europe. Tallest building in Europe. European center for the Euro and the bank that stores it´s value in gold. That´s it. And Goethe. And porn.
I spent three hours looking around. I even thought of selling my soul to see if that would make the tour any better. Nothing.
But I found Gellato. And I found bratwurst ( It had better have been bratwurst, I really have no idea, but who cares, it tasted great).
As I walked back, I noticed that the only things open are the porn shops. There are well over sixty to choose from and they are really pretty. And, most surprising of all, packed. Europeans love porn. It is the new art. The new culture. Smoke, fuck, get drunk and charge admission. That is the mantra here. Porn is a vital part of that world and I had almost forgotten how often I had seen a porn shop on this tour. There is one shop less than forty feet from the sistine chapel. There is one block from the David. There are ones next to hash bars, next to pastry shops and apparently next to hostels. Which makes me wonder....
This is a really nice hostel and the people here are pretty friendly. I wonder if many of those videos show the hostel and the people showering in them?
Well, the porn is wild. I have one to watch in the common room of the hostel. It´s about a horse that is a welder by day and an exotic dancer by night. But secretly the horse longs to be a ballet dancer. In the meantime, the horse has to screw everyone and then shit in their mouths.... oh the price of fame.
I head home tomorrow. No posting until tuesday. The final day of Europe will have to wait. THEN... the limited number of photos. For some reason, there are two or three of Amsterdam. Two or three of Paris. Six million of Italy. And two million of Munich. I might take one of Frankfurt for effect.
This invasion has concluded.
I forgot about porn
The final real day ends with me saying goodbye to some Munich folks on their way out to a pub crawl and me getting on a train. I wanted Berlin, I wanted Paris, I even wanted Prague, but money and timing will only allow an early return to Frankfurt, Europe´s waiting room.
The train trip is fine and I get into town around 1. The hostel is one block away so I am not too worried about getting there in one piece. But as I leave the train station, the faint glow of neon twinkles in the corner of my eye. I´m tired so I don´t give it much attention, but the closer I get to my hostel, the brighter and more obvious the neon signs. "PORN!" "GIRLS" "BOYS" "SCAT" "LIVE" and modestly sitting in between a gay porn/live sex show and a porn shop with eastern european women that you can pee on for forty euro, is my hostel. Up three flights of stairs and in to an empty dorm room. It´s built for twenty and I am the only one in there. Which gets my mind a reelin´. This is where the hookers take their dates.
Before I can think too deeply about it, I am sleeping. The sounds of men fucking each other in the alley behind the hostel softly singing me to sleep. For the record - I am not sure what language they were humping in, but it was funny. It sounded like the song "Rock me Amadeus" but with occasional butt slapping.
The next day I wake to find two people brushing their teeth and getting out of the room as fast as possible, I never heard them come in and they are gone before I even see their faces. Perhaps it was the Amadeus couple, or maybe just two guys from Detroit (well, if that were true, then why were they brushing their teeth).
Each hostel offers a breakfast, of sorts. Usually cereal and coffee. It works for me. When I get to the lobby, the dude that works there is pissed at me and yelling. It turns out that I snore so loudly that the two guys changed rooms. I wonder if this is why I can´t make friends in Europe? I´m sure it isn´t me but the constant sounds of men humping that scared them away, but I don´t care, I just want coffee.
A quick shower and it´s a day in Frankfurt.....
Goethe Haus. The man who wrote Fautus. The story about a doctor who sells his soul to the devil. If you ever spend any time in Frankfurt, selling your soul to the devil just might cost you forty euros. There is NOTHING to do in Frankfurt.
Frankfurt can boast this... Busiest airport in Europe. Busiest train station in Europe. Tallest building in Europe. European center for the Euro and the bank that stores it´s value in gold. That´s it. And Goethe. And porn.
I spent three hours looking around. I even thought of selling my soul to see if that would make the tour any better. Nothing.
But I found Gellato. And I found bratwurst ( It had better have been bratwurst, I really have no idea, but who cares, it tasted great).
As I walked back, I noticed that the only things open are the porn shops. There are well over sixty to choose from and they are really pretty. And, most surprising of all, packed. Europeans love porn. It is the new art. The new culture. Smoke, fuck, get drunk and charge admission. That is the mantra here. Porn is a vital part of that world and I had almost forgotten how often I had seen a porn shop on this tour. There is one shop less than forty feet from the sistine chapel. There is one block from the David. There are ones next to hash bars, next to pastry shops and apparently next to hostels. Which makes me wonder....
This is a really nice hostel and the people here are pretty friendly. I wonder if many of those videos show the hostel and the people showering in them?
Well, the porn is wild. I have one to watch in the common room of the hostel. It´s about a horse that is a welder by day and an exotic dancer by night. But secretly the horse longs to be a ballet dancer. In the meantime, the horse has to screw everyone and then shit in their mouths.... oh the price of fame.
I head home tomorrow. No posting until tuesday. The final day of Europe will have to wait. THEN... the limited number of photos. For some reason, there are two or three of Amsterdam. Two or three of Paris. Six million of Italy. And two million of Munich. I might take one of Frankfurt for effect.
This invasion has concluded.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 3:03 AM
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