A night at the Schatz im Freud

That's all I kan say. Wow.
Last night, Pete, heidi and I all went out to theis new club in the Pflugzeit quarter (maybe I misheard that when the concierge was giving me direections). It's calle d Schatz im Freud, which I'm told means something like "Darling in Freud" I doon't know who made that up, but it's kind of a weird name for a nightclub. Anyway, we walk in the door and all these old men with moustaches are dancing with ugly women and Pete turns to me and is like, "Wot's all this then, Monkey, you ta'in me to a gay club or sum'ing?"

And I'm like, "No, there's gotta be a reaoson awhy all these men are dancing with ugly women." and like Heidi seaz to me, "I'm not going to dance if only ugly women are dancing." I don't know why she said that 'cus the music was tight. They were bouncing out some Kraftwerk, some Gorillaz, some Gus Gus... you know, all that good stuff. And, it had theis really cool ambiance with like these blown up photos of Dr. Freud (did you know he was Austrian?) on the walls in like that pointillated newspaper photo kind of pop art look, and it was all lit by blacklight.

Anwyay, we got settled in to a plush corner booth and called over to the waitress, who was actually quite stunning, one of those stacked blondes, you know with like flowing goldern tresses -- she looked actually a lot like Heidi, but with less of an earth mother thing going on, if you know what I mean -- you remember? So it weren't five minutes had paassed she brought us over our plate of pickles and a magnum of Perrier-Jouet, like grand brut. Only the good stuff when you're with Pete, you know what I mean?

The pickles were so good, that we ordered more -- some of the mixed, with large chunks of cauliflower and sliced tomatoes. And I was scarfing down pickles and sipping the bubbly when this guy shows up from like out of the blue (except he was out of thee blacklight, get it?) and he putts hi s mitt on Heidi shoulder, like his fingers giving her a little squeeze -- which I thought was inappropriate. And he's like -- in English -- "How 'bout a dance, luv"

And I didn't think she was going to dance with him, because she already said she wouldn't dance if only ugley women were dancing, but then I guess a few more classic Viennese beauties had filed in wheile we were busy eating pickles -- you know that kind of rosy complexioned, gold-plated type women, with like patchwork dresses and dark flowing manes. It was hard to tell they were there at first, 'cus they really like blended into the backgroun.

Anyway, Heidi didn't get to tell this JAG Officer either way, 'cus all ova sudden, Pete looks up and is like, "Blimey, don' tell me you're here, Carl!"

Amd the guy with the greasy hair and indiscrete paws, that was Carl Barat of all people. And Carl's like "Forget it, Pete! YOu bloody aren't bloody here! I'm not seeing you. I'm goin' close my eyes and you shan't be 'ere when I open 'em, right?"

And, Pete was like, "You bloody bastard, I don' wanna see you anymore than you [I couldn't here the rest of what he said, 'cus it was like half-mumbled or I was out of it on a vinegar high]"

Anyway, Carl was like, "So wot you doin' 'ere in Vienna, you waster, you 'ere for the Sachertorte, eh?"

And Pete, he wasn't having any of theat, and he's like, "So wot if I am, Carl, what's it to you, I'm still sellin' more records with Babyshambles than you'll e'er sell with your bunch of wasters!"

Ans so , Carl is like, "You're done, Pete, you can't keep off the Sachertorte, noone's goin' be listening to you 'cus you'll be dead of a coronary!"

All of a sudden, there was like this major hush descended on the night club -- there was th tune "Fire Fire" pulsating in the background and then it was like not there. Dead silience.

Then some moustachioed guy with big eyes and a marichiono cherry sticking to his chin, like he had been slobbering Shirley Temples just a second ago, he calls out something in German that sounded like "KhuuuKhuuuTseiKhuuuTseiFeernuuvenleider" In essence, I ddin't quite catch it.

I turn to Heidi, and I say, "Baby what'd he say?" And she puts her ehand on my face with a look of profound understanding and tellls me, "Monkey, he said that he's never heard more shameful words spoken' and that Carl should getout of the club."

Then, some fello from the edge of the dance floor who had been freak dancing with a bony redhead just a second ago threw a banana at Carl. It didn't reach all the way, but I could tell taht Carl was upset that he'd had a banana thrown at him and he was like, "No, blimey, you Krauts don' understand... Pete's my mate."

And this burly fello with hot coals in the place of eyes and a gleaming skull belt buckle the size of a can of creamed spinach seemed to emerge practically from nowehere, but I suppose he was always lurking there in the netherwold of the black light he looks at CArl with eyes full of bile and sayz to him, something in German taht sounds like, "Neeandsprakhevonmordertodbleichemutter"

And I look at heidi again, who by now is becming quite exasperated with me like thinking, "where's all the german I taught you" but I'm like thinkgin "I can't think straight after plateful of pickles and all that cahmpagne." but she tells me something like the guy was upset about someone evoking death in the nightclub.

Anyway, next thing I knew, Carl was on the floor having like a wiggly worm, with a mob of unruly austrians kicking the crap out of him. At first, Pete's eyes were wide with horror, he's like, "Waiyt a minute, Monkey, that's my mate... wot do I do?"

And I'm like, "Pete, you know, there' s nothing to do. Best not to get involved."

I don't know, Jew, you may think ill of me, maybe, but I have to say that standing by and watching Carl Barat get teh crap beaten out of him after the way he put his mitts on my lady, it was like deep inside of me somewhere, the blood was moving anew and my heart was smiling. Nothing that I could admit to -- except to you of course, and to Heidi afterwards when we were, you know, talking about the weather... but it was really special experience. He deserved it that asshole.

Anwyay, we decided collectively -- Pete settled up with the waitress -- to split at that moment. I can't tell you how beautiful the boulevards of Vienna aer at night. We eneded up circling the Ringnstrasse a few times... It was good to get the fresh air, until the dogs started nipping at our heels. So we ducked into a cozy koffeehaus for some late night -- it must have been at least 2AM -- Sachertorte.

And then, of a sudden, I noticed something unusual. The waitress from the club was sitting next to Pete, her hand jealously clinging to his thigh. And I was like, "Pete, how'd she get here?"

And Pete's like "Mate, didn't ya notice, she been wit' us since the club?"

And I'm like "No."

The lamps of the koffeehaus danced wildly for a moment until they increased in intensity and the flames rose up from their glass houses so tall that they cast long shadows against the walls. I tried to peer through the shadows and out the windows, where I could hear the dogs barking but everything was blurred by condensation. The firelight intensified for a second. And then it all spun into darkness.

I woke up -- I don't know when -- in Heidi's soft embraced; I was slick with perspiration and curled up in a ball like I was her child and not her lover.

I don't know, I hope you're out there, Jew. I haven't heard from you... maybe you've been on some kind of raki bender to celebrate the ESS victory... maybe you've been like me, curled up in fear and sweat.

No comments: