Your Daughter is Great in Bed…
The plan today was that myself and Hana would spend some quality time together (and get our relationship sorted out) while Shane visited Prague. The train back to Brno was aided by a little girl who sat on her granny’s knee across from me. Every time the young Czech girl would glance at me, I would make a funny face and she would burst out laughing, much to the surprise of her guardian. Her granny would then ask what was so funny (as I straightened up my face). The chisler would point at me and I would pretend to be asleep and grandmother would scold the child for being so silly.
Hana was standing at the station, waiting patiently for me. We trammed it back to her gaff and she introduced me to Jana, her younger sister, who had lovely eyes and a great unrestrained personality. Hana brought me up to her bedroom, where I would wait the few hours until she had come back from visiting her quadriplegic friend. Hana prepared a noodle-cum-corn salad.
The sister’s room was quite spacious and was spotless and I flaked out
on Hana’s bed to recuperate my ailing body. Slept for about two hours and I was awoken by Jana, who had come home from school. The 18 year old beauty sat gregariously telling me about her life, in her almost perfect English. Spoke to each other for another couple of hours and Mrs.
Klimentova entered the house, home from work.
Jana was getting ready to attend rehearsals for a concert as I begged her not to leave me alone in the house with her mother. Jana brought me
back up to her room and we nearly said goodbye lewdly but I stopped myself. I mean, it surely wouldn’t be right-and-proper, me shifting my mott’s sister now, would it?
Hana came home and I was perched sleepily on her bed and I started the ball rolling by asking questions. “Where did she see our relationship going?” and other such queries. Talked for about an hour and we mutually decided to end and remain just good friends. I invited Hana for a final dance as Lionel Ritchie’s number “Easy like Sunday Morning” was broadcast over the airwaves.
The pictures was on the agenda that evening so before we left the household, Hana said it would be better to say goodbye to her parents before we left. Mrs. Klimentova was shaking my hand vigorously as Hana translated her every word. I donated a few words which my ex-Czech
girlfriend construed to her mother, who smiled lovingly.
Then Mr. Kliment appeared from the living room and offered his hand for shaking. He was all smiles and saying something very conspicuous in his native tongue. Hana was doing her best to remedy his translation.
Remembering the first night I had met him, when he slagged me, I was inspired with a “I’ll get you back, you Czech fecker”. I was looking deep into the father’s eyes, as he was smiling convivially and Hana was explaining to him what I was saying –
“Thank you both for your hospitality, your meals and friendly conversation; Oh and by the way, Mr. Kliment, your daughter is great in bed”!
Hana nearly collapsed on the floor with laughter. Myself and the Czech woman exited the house fairly lively, to the cries of her mother wanting to know what I had said.
“Jerry Maguire” was a good picture and we trammed back to Borivojova where Hana told me to catch up on some sleep before leaving to intercept the last tram at 1:48am. She arrived back into the living room with her mother’s alarm clock which was set for 1:30am. Hana regenerated to her bed upstairs and told me that she would say goodbye when I was leaving.
Mrs. Klimentova’s alarm clock woke me up with plenty of time (or so I thought). I stood up, from the couch to stretch my weary bones and muscles and spotted that my watch was a different time to the clock, by fifteen minutes. No time to think of what to do, with five minutes before the tram left the station, I just grabbed my backpack and ran out the door, racing down the street and taking a sharp left.
Crossing the freeway, I was nearly killed stone dead but managed to dodge the oncoming articulated trucks. Reached the tram stop just in time to stick out my thumb and halt the bodiless mode of transport. As myself and the driver whirred on into town, I pondered on what might have happened had I gone upstairs to wake Hana. Never one for big
goodbyes, I consoled myself that what I’d done was for the best.
Read all eight parts of Seven Capital Cities in Seven Days
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
