Has a nice life
“One thing I can’t stand about Prague,” said Jill as she pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, “is all the tourists.”
Jill was walking down Wenceslas Square with Dean on a cool and sunny May day. The square was swarming with people, many of them in clusters following closed umbrellas either up to the National Museum or down towards Old Town Square.
Dean and Jill were dodging and weaving their way through a pack of excited young Italians. “All those zippers,” said Jill, referring to the Italians’ clothing, “If only they’d zip their mouths shut. It must have been so much more awesome here ten years ago, right after the revolution.”
“A lot quieter, I suppose,” Dean said as he narrowly avoided colliding with an elderly Czech woman who had stopped abruptly in front of him for no apparent reason.
“So, where are you from?” Jill said.
Dean paused before answering. He tried to recall where Jill had said she was from. She’d told him when they first met, about an hour ago at the language school they taught at.
While sidestepping a young man who came to a sudden halt to check his reflection in a shop window, Dean remembered that Jill was from Halifax. She had told Dean that Halifax had the most bars per capita in Canada. To Jill, Dean looked impressed yet not surprised by this information.
“I’m from Ottawa,” said Dean.
“Oh, I like Ottawa,” said Jill, “It’s so nice.”
“It’s clean.”
“That’s what I miss here, clean air.”
“I miss good Mexican food.”
After another near-collision — this time they both nearly ran into a couple that stopped to make out in the middle of the sidewalk —Jill said, “Oh, and I miss donairs. You don’t have those in Ottawa, do you?”
“Yes, we do,” said Dean.
They listed the food they missed from their home and native land. Jill missed donairs, Chicago-style pizza, Indian cuisine, pancake houses, and chocolate-chip-cookie-dough ice cream. Dean missed Cap’n Crunch, all-you-can-eat buffets, good steak at reasonable prices, root beer, and dollar-ninety-nine breakfast specials.
“How long have you been here?” said Dean.
“One year,” said Jill, “I’m going back to Halifax in September to finish my degree. Then only eight months left before I have to be responsible. After that, the party days are over. I’ll get a good job at Deloitte and Touche as an accountant, work here a while, it’ll be nice. My mother’s buying a flat here. She wants to buy one in the center, but I’m sick of the center, I want to live where there are trees. Like in Kobylisy, in Prague Eight. But she wants to get a place in the center. I’ll just have to make her understand that I need to be in a place with trees. Well, then again, there’s an advantage to having a mother who is Czech. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to buy a place here, being Canadian, although I suppose I could get a Czech passport if I wanted to. Anyway, it’ll be great. Right now I’m living with my uncle and it’s, like, annoying, I mean, he’s always asking me where I’m going and when I’ll be in. It’ll be great to have my own flat here.”
“Sounds nice,” said Dean.
He lit a cigarette and said, “So the party days are over, eh? Why?”
Jill tilted her head and said, “I’m twenty-five. I’m old.”
Dean, who was four months shy of twenty-eight, said, “Yeah, ancient.”
Jill giggled and said, “I can’t wait to be back at university. I’ve got a meal plan there, and I’ve got money in the bank. For the first time in my life I have a bank account with money in it and it feels wonderful.”
“That’s nice,” said Dean.
“My boyfriend budgets me. I just give him my pay and he gives me money when I ask for it, after he decides if I really need it or not. Sure, sometimes we disagree, I mean, sometimes he just doesn’t understand what my needs are,”
Dean dragged hard on his cigarette as he tried to stifle a laugh. The haul went down the wrong way and he coughed. Dean’s eyes teared up as he hacked a mess of bluegrey smoke out his mouth and nose.
Jill sneered vaguely, then smiled and said, “Usually he’s very good. Today I bought a new bikini. It cost two thousand crowns. Two thousand crowns! Can you believe that?”
Dean regained his composure, took a clean drag, exhaled and said, “No, I can’t.”
“Oh, my boyfriend is wonderful,” said Jill, “he’s younger than me, but he’s very mature. And he’s not like typical Czech guys. He likes his beer, but, since I don’t drink or smoke — people here think you’re weird if you don’t drink beer, but I don’t like to do what everybody else is doing, I like to be different — sometimes he just drinks cola and he has a good time. I don’t drink or smoke or take drugs, I don’t even drink coffee or tea.”
“I admire that,” said Dean, “total abstinence takes a lot of strength, especially in this town. Wish I knew how to do it.”
They turned right off the square and started up Na Přikopě. The crowd on this street was just as thick as the one on Wenceslas Square, only there were no hordes following closed umbrellas, and the flow of pedestrian traffic was steady.
A sharp and urgent sensation swelled in Dean’s bladder and he quickened his pace, focusing on the McDonald’s logo on the opposite side of the street, about fifty meters away.
“This street has the most beautiful building in Prague,” said Jill.
“Right now the most beautiful building in Prague is the closest one with a WC,” said Dean, who was now on the brink of sweating as he gradually sped up, on the verge of jogging.
Jill was looking up the street, readying herself to point out the most beautiful building in Prague. “Another thing about my boyfriend is the respect he shows me. He’s a lot like the black boyfriends I had in Halifax, they show a lot more respect than white guys do, especially Czech white guys. For example, we were at some pub the other night and they had this lesbian strip and sex act and all the guys went rushing over to see it. My boyfriend stayed back with me. Such a sweetie.”
“Uh-huh, sweet, yes, McDonald’s toilet, sweet,” said Dean.
When they got to the Mickey D’s, Dean said, “Oh blessed relief. I’m going to go in here. I won’t be long.”
Jill nodded and went to look at the menu of the TGI Friday’s next door. The sun was out, and it was hot, the coolness of the morning already a distant memory. There were people seated at all the tables in front of the McDonald’s and TGI Friday’s. All the people looked happy to be eating fast food in the heart of the Czech Republic. In the heart of the heart of Europe, thought Jill.
The heart of the heart of Europe, she thought to herself, hey, that’s pretty clever.
Jill smiled at her cleverness and looked at the deserts. Oh, Oreo cookie ice cream cake! she thought. Mud pie! I must bring Jan here sometime. But it’s so expensive. Only tourists can afford this.
Jill thought of her boyfriend, Jan. She had met him on her second day in the heart of the heart of Europe. Jan was a friend of her cousin Magda’s. Magda had rounded up four of her male friends, telling them that her Canadian cousin needed a boyfriend for a month. All the guys she had asked said, yes, they would meet at Radost FX to meet Magda’s Canadian cousin. Jan wasn’t the best-looking of the bunch by Jill’s standards, but he was the most fluent in English. So, he was the only one of Magda’s friends who could pull effectively.
Dean walked out of McDonald’s grinning. He stood with Jill and looked over the TGI Friday’s menu with her and said, “That’s outta my league. I’ve got to wait till I’m back in Canada, making real money, before I can eat in a place like this.”
Jill said, “I’m gonna get my folks to take me here when they come. I’m a bit nervous about seeing my father again. I think he’s still upset that I decided to stay here an extra ten months because of Jan, my boyfriend. I met Jan on my second day here. We’re celebrating our one-year anniversary next week.”
“One year, eh?” said Dean, “Congratulations. Is that some kind of record?”
“Yeah, for him too. What’s your record?”
“Five years.”
“Five years! Wow, how come you’re not married?”
“Just didn’t work out. I wanted to get out of Ottawa. She was an accountant.”
“I’m an accountant,” said Jill.
“Sorry to hear that,” said Dean.
They walked in silence. The crowds thickened a little at the Powder Tower, then thinned out as they walked into Republic Square. They walked in front of the Municipal House, past a dark man with black eyebrows and a white Mozart wig who stood handing out flyers and loudly pitching a Mozart performance, past the tables along the side of the grand yellow building with its green and brass trim, glorious sculptures, and dazzling tiled mosaics. The people on the patio looked as content as those seated in front of the McDonald’s and TGI Friday’s.
Further along the square, just off the first intersection, was the Taz Pub. Greasy young men and spotty young women with bad haircuts smoked and skulked about in front of the place. Beside Taz was the Hotel Pařiž, where many of the people at the fancy and fast-food patios stayed after their long days of eating expensive meals and snacks, drinking expensive drinks, and following closed umbrellas.
Jill and Dean continued until they got to the Kotva department store. A trio of dark brown men with shiny black hair stood smoking near the entrance to the store. One of them approached Dean and strolled alongside him, matching his stride step for step. In a low rumbling voice, he said, “Chceš něco? Hash, Skunk, Koks?”
Dean stopped. The dealer halted with a ridiculous flutter as the sensation of paper money in hand became plausible. “Did you say Skunk?” said Dean.
“Yes, yes, Skunk, very good, make you very stoned, flying, man,” said the dealer as he did a subtle yet frantic jig in anticipation of making a sale.
“How much?” said Dean
“Three hundred,” said the dealer.
“Two-fifty.”
“Yes, yes, two-fifty. You wait here, I get my friend.”
Jill looked nervous and disgusted. Dean turned to her and said, “I don’t know why the fuck I’m buying here. They either sell you low quality Czech shwag, most of it sticks and stones, or oregano, or they straight-up rip you off, take your money and give you nothing for it.”
“I hate these people,” said Jill, “Jan and I always see them in the Old Town Square, they always come up to us and say, ‘Grass, hash, koks?’ They’re horrible.”
“That’s strange,” said Dean, “I’ve never seen them in Old Town Square. They’re usually around Marquis de Sade and Chapeau Rouge.”
Before Jill could reply, the twitching dealer returned, accompanied by his two swarthy colleagues. The one on the dealer’s left was a large man with smooth fat lips and small heavy-lidded eyes. The one on the dealer’s right was short and dry-skinned with big wet eyes and a whisper of a mustache. “Okay,” said the dealer, “you give my friend the money and we give you the Skunk.”
The dealer pointed at the short dry man who was holding his right hand out. The big man stared at Jill as he breathed audibly through his mouth. Jill took a step back and to the side, positioning herself behind Dean. The big man’s eyes turned to Dean and seemed to look through him.
Dean considered for a moment then turned away. “Forget it,” he said, “Thanks.”
“Come, come, stay, wait, is good Skunk!” said the dealer.
“Where’s it from?” said Dean in a half-sigh as he kept walking away from the trio.
“Is from Holland! Is good, make you stoned flying, man. You give my friend money, I give you Skunk! Is easy.”
“Let me see the grass.”
Dean’s movement had exposed Jill to the big man’s gaze. Staring at Jill, he said, “What you want from? Holland?”
Dean and the dealer ignored him. This was strictly a two-man play. The collector just stood with his hand out waiting for the money. A group of German tourists walked by, laughing and barking their angry-dog language. One of them dropped a ten-heller piece in the collector’s hand. He didn’t flinch, he stood there with his hand out like a dark and peeling stage prop.
The dealer said, “You give my friend money and you see grass, good grass, is Holland Skunk, man, make you very stoned, man.”
“What,” said the big man, in a thick low slur, several lengths behind in the discussion, “Holland? You want Holland? Skunk?”
Dean rolled his eyes and said, “Forget it. Besides,” he pointed at an unarmed traffic cop writing a ticket across the street, “There’s police here. Thanks, goodbye, have a nice day.”
The three men spoke in loud voices, in a language that sounded Czech but wasn’t. It was angrier, like German, only a little more rolled and smoothed out.
Dean and Jill walked to Limonadový Joe, passed through the lobby of its movie theater and up a short flight of stairs. The bar’s skylight was open to expose the perfect blue sky. They sat at a table in the middle of the bar.
Jill excused herself to go to the toilet. A waiter came to their table. Dean ordered a beer for himself and a cola for her.
When she returned, Jill said, “Well, it’s nice to be in a place other than McDonald’s or Dunkin’ Donuts that has nice toilets.”
“Yeah,” said Dean, “I suppose they have nice toilets. Do you know what this club is named after?”
“No.”
“It’s named after this great Czech film called Limonadový Joe. It’s a western spoof that has the best burn on the cliché happy ending I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m crazy about films,” said Jill, “but Czechs don’t make very good movies. Not good comedies anyway.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “What?” he said, “Czechs make great movies! And their sense of humor is fantastic. A bit morbid, but funny.”
Jill puffed bang off the left side of her face and said, “Hm, yeah, well. . . Oh! I saw the most wonderful film the other day! Forces of Nature with Ben Affleck and Sandra Bullock. I love Sandra Bullock. I’ve seen the movie almost three times! I saw it last week on Thursday, then on Friday, and I’m going to see it again tonight.”
Dean slumped back in his chair, sipped his beer, and said, “Sandra Bullock doesn’t really do it for me. She’s too sweet. Watching her is like chugging corn syrup through your eyes.”
Jill laughed. “Oh, come on!” she said, “She’s not that bad.”
Dean grunted, lit a cigarette, took a drag, huffed out a few smoke rings, and sipped his beer again. Jill’s face tensed. She shifted a few times in her seat and took a few long sips of her cola.
Jill cleared her throat and said, “I really can’t wait to be back in school. I just love life in the residences. In the winter I never have to walk outside to get to my classes. We have this great catwalk system connecting the whole campus, so I can stay warm the whole Canadian winter. I hate winter. I love summer. This summer’s going to be great. I’m going to Croatia with my boyfriend. I have to watch what I eat so that I’ll look good in my new bikini. I’m thinking of trying vegetarianism again. I tried it once, about two years ago, but I came home one day and there was nothing in the fridge but meat. Hot dogs, hamburger meat, steaks, a few rainbow trout, boneless chicken breasts. No vegetables, just meat! So I cooked up two chicken breasts and half a trout.”
Dean said, “Sounds rough.”
“Oh, I’ll admit it,” said Jill, “I like meat. Can’t really afford it here, though.”
“I know. Last time I had a good cut of steak was in Ottawa, two days before I left.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost three years.”
“When was the last time you were home?”
“Almost three years ago.”
“I’m only going to stay here for one more year, just until my boyfriend finishes school,” said Jill, “Then we’ll move to Canada together. Definitely to Halifax. I just have to pass one exam to get that job at Deloitte and Touche and I can work there while my boyfriend is in school.”
“You know,” said Dean as he snuffed his cigarette in the tiny half-full ashtray, “Every time I see their logo I think it reads Toilette and Douche.”
Jill sipped her cola and said, “I never really thought of it that way. Anyway, I’ve got the next ten years of my life all planned out. I’m going to finish school, get a job here in Prague, then go back to Halifax and I’m going to marry my boyfriend and we’re going to get a house and raise our family in Halifax. I would never raise my children here, in this city. I want my children to grow up with trees and water and clean air. Wow, I’ve never felt this before, for the first time in my life I have direction. It’s a great feeling. I mean I went through a period where I was living on the streets, eating, like, two meals a week, then in university I went a bit wild and drank a lot and partied hard, but then my GPA hit zero-point-two-five, and I had to tell myself, ‘Hey, wake up, it’s time to get it all together!’ I mean, a point-two-five GPA? But I cleaned myself up and now I’ve got direction and it’s great.”
“That’s nice,” said Dean as he lit another cigarette.
They sat in silence for another moment. Jill fidgeted in her chair again. Dean looked at her, subtly nodded his head a couple of times then drank the remaining half of his beer in two swift gulps. He sat up straight and motionless for a few seconds, staring up at the clear sky, shook his head rapidly, and signaled to the waiter that he wanted to pay.
The waiter came to the table and Dean paid for his beer. “I’ve got to go,” Dean said to Jill, “I’m, uh, hooking up with a friend over in Malá Strana. It was nice meeting you, Jill.”
“Nice meeting you too,” Jill said.
They looked at each other for a moment. Dean opened his mouth as if to speak, then turned and left the bar smoking and scratching his head. He walked past the trio who had tried to rip him off. Dean ignored them and they ignored Dean. He walked to Templova in hopes of finding a legit dealer for some proper Skunk.
Jill sat at the table a moment longer then finished her cola, paid, and left the bar. She hadn’t liked her colleague, whose name she couldn’t remember. She thought he smoked too much and was strange. And she thought he was trying to pull her. Jill smiled behind her face. She was very much in love with her boyfriend, but it was nice knowing that other guys found her attractive.
Yes, thought Jill, it was nice to be in love, it was nice to be attractive, it was nice to have direction, it was nice to have money in the bank, and it was nice to be twenty-five years old in the heart of the heart of Europe on a sunny, almost-summer, day.
