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Hosting a Butch in Prague is Dangerous for the Legs

AngelikaCourtois
Hosting a Butch is never an easy task, especially one that is romantic, or one that has never seen Prague. Hy arrived backpack in hand at the Prague Airport on September 1st 2008, in the middle of the night. Local taxi service is great (I recommend AAA Taxi) so returning to my apartment was a breeze, and yes, the windows were open, but no pun intended.

I dragged him willingly to Wenceslas Square the following day, made him walk so much that exhaustion pretty much eliminated any other sightseeing the 2nd day, but on the 3rd day, today, I gave hym no choice and pushed, promised heaven and earth, and threatened all sorts of delectable's .. and off to Charles Bridges it was.

The weather was a bit overcast, which eventually was chased away by the sun, and as luck would have it, Prague's Jazz History was well represented as we walked across the Charles Bridge, the Butch all googoo eyed. Ah yes, the magic of Prague I thought to myself. NO Butch can ever deny Prague *smiles*. Leisurely walks, stopping for eye candy, and finally, at the end of Charles Bridges, hidden between trees and ancient buildings, we stopped to sit at the canal that runs through the old town, at a small café, availing ourselves of a small bite; sandwiches, chased by a coke.

All was great until a simple attempt to place a lighter back on the small table resulted in coke flying everywhere. Needless to say, hy was soaked more than I, having thrown hymself in the way of flying carbonation to save the fair lady, and after recovering from belly aching laughter, we elected to leave the wetness behind.

As one turns the corner of this café, to again be bedazzled by the history laid before you, there is a small ice cream stand ... and at this stand you can purchase all sorts of culinary delights ... I chose pear and hy did chocolate. My immersion into my ice cream resulted in me walking a few steps ahead, not paying attention to the slowly walking Butch and out of nowhere I felt something hit the bottom of my left leg.

I turned slowly to assess and lo and behold, the darling Butch had lost hys grip on hys flying cone, the chocolate cone having found the cobble stones more appealing than the Butch's grip. As it flew, apparently it landed on the back of my pants, slid down along my pant leg before coming to rest in peace at the back of my feet.

I loudly exclaimed ... "I, a German Femme, had to move from NYC to come to Prague to be assaulted by an American Butch living in England". I do not know about anyone else, but somehow that visual just caught me wrong, and laughter propelled my onwards to head back to my apartment with the Butch hanging hys head most of the way, refusing to even look at any other ice cream stand again that day.

At the apartment, feeling somewhat guilty for beschmooching my pants in public (I can only guess at this of course) Aryon (aka Chris) tried to make me coffee, and again, gravity did not cooperate. The coffee ground flew in the air and landed on the floor, at the feet of a Butch that could do nothing but look lopsided at me as laughter again was my companion.

Did I ever tell you I love Prague? I really do.

Angelika Courtois

1 Comments

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  • Typing for Food5/2/2009

    Awwwwwwwwww, neat story.

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