A House Divided/Half A World Away

Let’s talk about Slovakia. All I know about Bratislava is what Eurotrip told me and what I saw during my shitbreak. Neither are convincing. Well since Slovakia stretches out before you on a trip from Hungary to Czech Republic (or vice versa), I figured that I might as well give it a few hours of my time. Already shit there, saw the worst of it… maybe it has it’s positive aspects. Besides, I have a rail pass and I have the ability to move around and whatnot… got five days — only used one so far (this being a part of the second).

And since it didn’t take as long to go from Budapest to Brno, I was openly thinking about killing some time in the country. I jumped on the 9:25 train to Prague from Budapest and figured I’d leave the day open. Worst case it’d be a 2-hour side trip like the last time. Best case would be several hours.

As I got on my train in Budapest, I was approached by this girl named Greta. Actually by several people that were trying to figure out if this particular train went to various places other than just Budapest to Prague. But Greta is the memorable one. The others were dudes and old people.

Greta is the kind of chick that I would label “fun-sized” — she was a tiny chick but was open and friendly. The train car was pretty much empty and I walked to a seat and sat alone (since I’m used to the NJ Transit and how people hate you)… so I gave her space.

In Slovak (I think): “Something, something, something, Slovakia, something, something, Czech Republic?”

Whatever the fuck that means. Somehow, I knew she was asking something about where I was going. So I responded with the universal sign for I have no idea what you are talking about: the shrug. Then I played a blistering game of charades. She then said something like “Hovoríte anglicky?”

I’ve tried to learn Czech over the last month and I deciphered that Anglicky in Slovak sounds close enough to Anglicky in Czech (pronounced Ahn-glitz-sky) to probably mean the exact same thing since they once upon a time were the same country. I nodded hoping that I was answering “Do you speak English?”

“Are you American?,” she said. Shit, the universal trap question. I know that answering this truthfully is usually not good… so I lied and said, “no I’m Canadian.” I’m not fucking stupid. Then she dropped the holy of holies… “Oh, because I went to college in the United States.”

Where at?

“Florida State.” [My mouth drops]

For real? I’ll be right over!

I then moved my seat next to her. I conceded that I lied to her because of the rumors I’ve heard regarding people hating Americans and protecting myself. She understood. I also confessed that I was a Gator. Some might consider this a dangerous play — but I went for it anyway. It turned out to be quite shrewd. Now we didn’t go to college at the same time, but what the fuck are the chances? In all of the places in all of the world — Slovakia (well still technically Hungary but going to Slovakia). An FSU girl… on my train… and hot to boot.

So I ask her what she asked me — “Oh, I asked if you were going to Slovakia or all the way to Prague in Czech Republic.”

So since I’m a horny dickhead pleasant conversationalist, we quickly started flirting… and before I know it we’re halfway through the Slovakian countryside. I tell her that I’m going to Brno, Czech Republic and she explains that it isn’t that much further from the stop that she’s getting off at…

That’s interesting, you know, that’d she tell me that. This isn’t Hungary- – that was definitely a subliminal message.

She continues to say that she is genuinely saddened that I didn’t give her country a chance on my whirlwind Farewell tour. We continue chatting and for some reason, nobody is filling up the train. But then again we are in First class. It’s really just me and her. She’s pointing out little towns here and there — and the innuendo is getting more sexual. Then she’s like, “my stop is next.” I’m fumbling around trying to ask her for her number or her Facebook or whatever, “you should probably grab your bag.”

Game on! Now, I basically broke every single travel rule in the book. I trusted somebody, I put my safety in her hands, I broke my schedule, I threw caution to the wind, then I put the team on my back, doe.

Victoria's Secret is that they don't have shops in Eastern Europe because girls don't need or wear bras half the time.

And I’m glad I did, because when I say “fun-sized,” I really mean what you see in the picture. Just marvel at them. Now let me be clear, we did not have sex. I have had outdoor sex before. In fact, a few times. It is pretty invigorating. It is naughty and it is fun. And on a day like today, which was unseasonably warm, it would have felt right. But we didn’t, instead it was a cheap make-out session and and she offered up this model shoot idea. Incentive. To come back and see more of her country. Then we exchanged Facebook names, chatted more and grabbed some ice cream before the next train came through to take me further on down the road.

And I just remembered the last thing she said, “… Oh, and I come to America quite often too. My family still lives in Atlanta.”

If ever have a singing career, or a stand-up routine… I’m appropriately calling it Greta’s Tits: The Best of…

Homage shit.

… and I’m sure it (Slovakia) is a lovely country. But I’m also sure that I saw the best part(s) of it.

There is also an awesome phenomenon on this particular train. When you finally get to the Czech Republic’s first station, the First Class section (my people) are greeted with a servant-like train attendant. I’m not sure why it is just in Czech Republic but it is a nice perk. And every single one that I’ve seen has been really cute and proficient in English. The girl today was no exception. So even after the fun side trip — there was still some eye candy left over for the Czech Republic portion. Sadly, Brno isn’t Prague — its only the second stop in the country — so my attending girlfriend experience was short-lived.

[I would also like to take the time to encourage every American girl to get a boob job. Just trust me and do it… because you are fighting a battle right now that you can’t win. These girls over here are blessed… so do your part to get back the edge. Thanks, — the Management]

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One thought on “A House Divided/Half A World Away

  1. […] seen in the flesh because I have been incredibly fortunate in my day (including that particular day which had produced some fabulous flesh already), but this was just another example of hand-crafted perfection. Everything was perfectly […]

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