Frack Me I'm…

I think this time I will pick up where I stopped last time. Hey, even my life sometimes has some structure.

Obviously my life changed a lot after I left as well the police as my parents place. Of course my contact with D. wasn’t lasting long, nor was my relationship with EE. Both didn’t survive three months. EE wasn’t meant to be my partner and my relationship with D. suffered too much how my life was changing.
I didn’t know at that moment, actually it was going to take me several years to realize, but I was deeply unhappy.

I was already waitring since a little more than a year in the club, at that moment the biggest club on the European continent, now. I loved the job and the money was great. Speak I made in only one night an average Belgian month wage. I only worked two nights a week.. You do the math.
Of course being still that young (I was only 18), I was weak. My colleagues soon got me into drugs, cocaine to be precise, but luckily only as a party, social, drug, I wasn’t that week. Soon my week was filled with work… and working out. Slimline as I was, I felt the need to gain volume. Massive volume.
Within weeks I had gained almost 30 pounds. Yes I got some help, but mainly I just was a beast, a robot at the gym. And I soon I became the same robot in life.
I just didn’t know better. And didn’t realize either, how would I notice that I had turned emotionless if I had never learned what emotions were.

This obviously influenced my contact with people, especially with women. As D. was trying to come closer, I was moving away from people. Also from D. I surely appreciated her efforts, but couldn’t imagine investigating in this. I didn’t know what investigating in a relationship was. And we didn’t have a relationship anyway.
Surely we spent many nights together, in the same bed even, but there was such a thing as a forbidden triangle. Everything else was possible. Naked even. Everything.
Except for a certain triangle.

As time pased by I became more and more introverted personnally. Nothing seemed to reach to me anymore, but my outside presence was the one of a posh person. I guess this was the period Johnny Thunders got born.
Soon a new chapter of my life started. I remember myself hanging out in bars and day clubs every spare minute of the day. Flirting with babes women and showing of my Alfa Romeo. I was popular with women, but moved on even faster as I won them.

One day I woke up and felt totally empty. The same moment I decided I was leaving life for some days and going to visit France.
My crusade started.
I couldn’t be bothered about work or any other obligation I had, I just wanted to leave for a while.

So did I. I wanted to drive to the southern of France and come back some days later. Few did I know what was going to happen.
It was a rainy day and I had only crossed the Belgian border for some miles, of course I had bought my stock of cigarettes in Luxemburg, when the French Gendarmerie stopped me. They controlled me and my car but luckily didn’t find the huge amount of cigarettes I had hidden, hidden in my boot. I guess they were rather bored than really wanted to find something because the cigarettes were easy to find.
Still, their whole operation still took almost two hours, retarding me and my plans to reach the southern of France. They had annoyed me and I decided to leave te highway and visit one of the next towns.

I ended up in Metz, renting a hotel room for indetermined time. New Police (the brand this time) sunglasses on my head, first I went to shop and bought some freaking shoes. Plan was to go party the same night, what did I know.
Working in a night club I thought it was easy to find clubs in a not that small town, but it wasn’t (yeah I admit I could have made a literatic improvement of this, but get over it).
Before 23.00 the only place there seemed to be downtown was a cabaret, or private bar. I wanted to drink, so couldn’t be bothered about driving outside of town. And where do hotels first send you anyway?

I ordered a Chivas, no rocks for me please, with a glass of water and started hitting of the flies turning of the ladies working that night.
Then, she came to me. She was… goodlooking. Obviously dressed like any other whore, but still she was goodlooking. She told me her colleagues had send her as I was special.
I accepted her invitation and we went private. Soon we where enjoying our bottle of champagne and cuddling. And more.
She even left me her hotel room details and told me to join her after work. Few did I know this would become regular in my next years. We spent days together, went shopping and I was her regular only customer a work (in France girls get paid a monthly wage plus sales commision so faking was pretty easy for her).
I paid my hotel room regularly as the days, weeks passed by until she was to leave for the next town.

A whore decided my life in those days. What was I going to do? Three weeks had passed, three weeks in which I hadn’t shown up for work anymore and forgotten about everything I had left behind.
She was to leave Metz and hit the next town, but before we went on a shopping spray. I had no plan those days. We knew it wouldn’t last, or even continue the day after she left Metz. Business and leeching explain everything. But it was great.

Only had she left town for 24 hours, my life went on, but how? I was in a comateuse situation, just doing whatever I felt like at that particular moment. Metz had a recruitment post.
A Foreign Legion recruitment post. I sold my car and joined the Legion. To be send to Aubagne only some days later. Physically thrilled as I was, I could easily join the Legion and soon was send to Castelnaudary, absolving the training of a legionair.
But I left.
I left only 3 months later, on the day we were to walk back to Aubagne, to sign for 5 years. To become a contracted/real legionair.

The next day I returned to Metz and booked in at the hotel she stayed before. Surprizingly I got her room, the bed we spent several nights together in. But memories were short and soon I was shagging the next babe as my life moved on.

To the Netherlands.

Don’t ask me why, but I had decided to leave France for Amsterdam, NL.
Arrived in Amsterdam I found a youth hostel (STFU I still was only 18) and quickly had a job as a waiter.
Working for a Jewish boss. On the main avenue in front of Amsterdam Centraal. I learned a lot in those days. Especialy how to be a good waiter, more even how to rip off tourists. My boss, my teacher, loved me.
After work I mainly spend my time in a hip local Amsterdam bar. Actually I was there as well before work.
Youth hostel life was fun, not upto my personal standards, but upto the standards of thebody part which was most active in those days.
Soon became I great waiter and earned my respect in town. DId I realize women, mainly night birds came to one of the worst places in town because of my person. Nothing could touch me… I was ear to everyone and as soon as I became member of the crew of a very respected club, my audience was set.

Hookers.

They came to me after work, crying out about their customers, because they knew I was hardly interested in them, but would still listen to their stories. Occasionally I would end up with one of ‘em in bed.
My trip continued.
My name always relied more and more on my contact with girls. Of course every boss realized this was a major goldmine.
Hey, you got great looking women in your bar, you get spending men as well.

There I was. Whores and coke snorting colleagues as friends in life.

Disclaimer : This entry has no end as it was going to determine much of my life for the next years. Come back later, but be assured I will never write a book about my life although many more things happened.
Actually, why would I write a book since I have a blog already?

Lately I have discovered a surprizingly calm. I am calm, but is it the calmth I have persued all of my life? I have had periods like this before explaining my doubts about this tranquility.

Emails. I have been mailing quite alot with people lately. Mails have always been the way of keeping in touch with people for me. Must have been 1996 when I started my mail blog. It was my travel newsletter. Being notoriously lazy I send weekly a cc/bcc mail to everyone, with public answers on questions. I disgress.

Lately I have been sharing alot in my mails. I also have been drafting many entries. Way too many. My mini-psychological-biography. Instead of editing those drafts, I will occasionally rewrite and publish some of ‘em. It will mainly be streams of thoughts. Drafts will only serve as start.
And this intro was way too long, so lets just start.

Yesterday evening, enjoying my shower, I was thinking about my life style. I like tranquility. I like standing in the spotlight. Standing in the spotlight, being isolated with myself. I told you this was going to be boring.

I stood in the spotlight. Every Belgian police officer knows my name. They all knew my face too. Thanks Dad. His colleagues loved the son of. I isolated myself. Actually I didn’t, emotions weren’t allowed anyway.
I loved the spotlight. I started working as a waiter in a popular Belgian club. I got popular. I was alone. No rich star, just a popular bloke. I was on my own.

Back to today’s. I am a snob. I am a hidden snob. I live alone. I have lots of people around me. I can’t live without people around, but I want to be on my own.
I am a snob. I live a decadent life. I am lazy. I work hard and many hours.
To pay my habits, my lifestyle.

Did anyone say habits? My lifestyle is my habit, not any kind of drugs or anything else. I am addicted to nothing, nothing except my lifestyle. I love people around and want to be alone. But I need people around me.
Enough of the abstract, lets just start writing.

I work hard and many hours, but am most of time on the road. Except in the evenings. In the evenings I go to my own space. This used to be behind the bar, nowadays it is my own little comfy space.

You know the guy who’s always sitting in some bistro, cafe or pub? The one drinking coffee all day long. Reading newspapers. His notebook on the bar. He knows the whole staff. He knows all the regulars. They all know him. Everyone speaks to him, but he’s always on his own. Working, surfing, reading… drinking coffee all day long. He is furniture of every place. You can hardly go to popular day places without having seen him.

Yup, you got it… that’s me. Any second I can go out, even escape from work, I go squat a cafe or bistro. I go work.
They all know me. I know them.
Every day another place if possible. If I miss out one day, they mail me. Funny isn’t it?
I am always online… even when I sleep. Skype has replaced my phone line. My palm checks my mail perpetuously. A wireless network somewhere and I am online. So far I have been hiding from mobile devices. My cell only has bluetooth. To check my mail.

This was one boring post and now I am going for a cappuccino. Oh and for the smartasses under you, my IP? Yes, always the same one. My server serves me as proxy server. ;-)
Expect more of those entries soon. ;-)