Nightlife In PragueHad a Prague night at a punk rock bar in a 500 year old wine cellar. Woke up beer soaked.This is the Prague morning: streets are littered with stumbling drunks greeting the morning with cross eyed grimaces. Maybe they are thinking about the night, the booze, or the women/men that they just gobbled [...]
Nightlife In Prague
Had a Prague night at a punk rock bar in a 500 year old wine cellar. Woke up beer soaked.
This is the Prague morning: streets are littered with stumbling drunks greeting the morning with cross eyed grimaces. Maybe they are thinking about the night, the booze, or the women/men that they just gobbled down? Maybe they are not thinking anything? I walked among them worshipping the blue sky coming through the ages old menagerie of ornate Prague architecture. I am a drunk too. Something must have happened for hundreds of cross-eyed zombies to be stumbling about at 5 AM in the morning aimlessly through the streets of an ancient city.
Yes, something did: Nightlife in Prague.
I watched as a sunken eyed and stumbling Czech girl flopped her rag-doll beaten body and drink bruised face into a well worn taxi cab seat. I watched as a booze soaked blond girl laughed loudly as she fell flip-flop upon the stone hard sidewalk with no regard for the fact that her well-worn crotch was peaking out from the shallow depths of her far too short mini-skirt. I watched as a flock of pigeons made a feast of a large puddle of chucky pink vomit. And I watched as a big bald Mexican tried to pick a fight with my short bald Czech friend who was at my side. But the homeward train came none too soon, and I waved ‘farewell’ to my Czech friend and his Mexican aggressor as they cut short their impending conflict as they jump into their respective trains. Everyone was ending their night as the morning was beginning its day.
I walked among all of this with a pipe in my mouth and a smile on my face, as I, like everyone else, was trying to make some sense of the previous night. So this is Prague, I thought, as I watched a dark skinned man accost a pair of drunken Englishmen on the opposite site of the street. The drunk Englishmen were having none of it, and told their pursuer to properly “piss off.” I would have to say that these English men were the kind that make their home at soccer games. I think they may have been meatheads. But the dark skinned man did not want to “piss off,” and he began running after – and yelling at – the Englishmen. They now stood face to face. The Englishmen held out their arms in a “bring it on” sort of fashion. The Czech man reached behind his back and got ready to draw his blade.
I stood on the other side of the street with a vantage point that allowed me to watch the knife being drawn without being noticed. The drunk Englishmen did not know that the dark skinned man was armed. I was debating as to whether or not I should give a warning call to the Englishmen, when I noticed a group of dark skinned locals rushing to the scene to lend assistance to the knife holder. I decided that this was a good time to draw a curtain on this scene, take my Prague night for what it was, and quickly beat it away from there.
I did not hear any screams in my wake.
Nightlife in Prague.
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