The Holy Order of the Sisters of the Eternal Purgatory of Goaltending

In Czech, hockey is not a sport, it is a religion. Whether it is NHL, IHWC, Olympic, local or otherwise hockey is the ticket. It is far more popular than that kickball sport the Germans and the British play. They are pretty good at hockey, Czech teams are regularly in the top two or three in the Olympics, World Championship and the hotly contested local pro league is no slouch. No matter what you are talking about, if you are talking hockey, you can find a friend in Czech. Well, that is not true. After this year’s national catastrophe, it is hard to be an American after the Czech team knocked the puck into the goal themselves. I have one to thing to say about that, “Play hard or go home!” The Czech team is a better team, but overconfidence will kill you every time.

Pizza and Shakespeare

Kamila. Oh Kamila, many songs will be sung for your heart. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen was Kamila. I mean she was well bell beyond want able, just listening to her tell me she had to “grow down” so she could walk next to me was endearing. She was well beyond 6 ft. (1.9m) and was probably a 36DD with an amazing figure and a butt you could bounce a 50kc coin on. She was such a traffic risk that I think that the city of Prague should have provided her a private car. She is a reasonable girl and usually rode the trams and metro black. So I would have probably been saving her a couple of bucks by the private car after some of the MHD fines. Even by her own admission, sometimes she has a special way of “paying her fines” to the MHD ticket maids.

It was Christmas time when I called her. I remembered that she said that she was going to go to the mountains around Christmas. I did not want to miss her. We decided to meet at the tram stop at Narodní Třida. She stepped off the tram in blue jeans and a long coat. Her dark hair was bound with the cutest little butterfly clips. She is so adorable and sweet; it is hard to think that a curmudgeon like me could be going to dinner with her. I can not remember her wearing makeup and I think that made her seem prettier. I am not kidding; she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She is as pretty as Elle or Claudia on their best days, but I have never met them.

She hopped off the tram like a six-foot, supermodel bunny. She saw me immediately and walked right over to me and kissed my forehead. Give me a break; she is six inches (15cm) taller than me. The fact that she thought enough to give me a kiss in the first place made me more than happy to accept. I asked her where she wanted to go for dinner. “Pizza”, she replied. Last time we had gone for “Italian”, which in Czech means “pizza”. She was surprised when I ordered oso bucco, and she ordered Hawaiian pizza.

Her accent made her English sound so exotic, even if she was not really answering the question. I told her pizza was not a where, but a what.

“Yes, yes. It I know. Do you know the Blue Garden?”

“Modra Zahrada?”

“Yes, yes, Very good Czech.”

“Diky”, I replied. At this time I did not know enough Czech to get myself out of a ten percent tip. That was settled, and we started walking toward the restaurant. I felt kind of dumb carrying a book in my hand. We walked into to the restaurant and up the stairs. There were few places to sit upstairs, but we found one in the middle of the room to the right side of the stairs. I can remember it like it was yesterday. She and I were talking about my life in Prague. She was awesome; she was looking out for me. She was making sure I knew where the drug store was and or if I knew the word. Rather than trying to hold her unwrapped Christmas present in secret, I decided to give it to her right then.

It was a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets in Czech and English. One page was in English and the opposite was in Czech. She had a salad and I had pizza. She said that she had pizza the day before and she needed to eat better. I guess some Czech people eat better than the fried cheese and tartar sauce of normal Czech fare would suggest. We had a great dinner that night, just reading from that book. She is a lovely girl, shame I only saw her a few other times. I guess my present was to have a great evening with her. In Czech, it is all about the little things.

Interesting Conversations

Interesting conversation is a great thing to share between friends. They say, “You like a person for their qualities, but love them for their faults.” Alousek is a woman that I met in a pub. Yeah, yeah I know, drink less and lose some weight. Life in Czech revolves around a pub. One night, drinking Krušovice in a pub near my flat, I met a brown-haired woman. I have been told that I could get any woman that I wanted if I just spoke a little Czech. If it was that easy, just wait until I tell the boys back home.

That is not really true. I know it and the person who said it knows it too. Alena is proof that there might be more or less to it than that. Alena came up to me and started talking to me about the hockey game that was on the bar TV. I had had a few and my inhibitions were pretty much toast. So I was pretty relaxed by the beautiful Czech woman initiating a conversation with me. We got a better table and started talking. She was trying to speak slowly and I was trying not to stare at her breasts and keep my Czech translator turned-on. She speaks English pretty well. She was testing my mettle, trying to see how long I would squirm before I broke. After a few hours of increasingly harrowing conversation, I blurted out in Czech “So, are we going to play doctors or what?” Honestly, I expected her to say “F.O.N.D.”, and then throw a drink in my face.

Not in Czech, I got a soft “Sure, why not.” It is amazing what half a dozen beers will buy in some bars. I remember she kissed me right then. We got up and went back to my flat. We were drinking slivka and watching TV sitting on my “terrible” couch. It did not take long and one thing lead to another.

She has a great figure. Undressed it is certainly was even more enjoyable. I think that this is when I learned she spoke English. She looks at me and asks, “Do you know the parts of the body, yet?” From my mouthful of panties, I do not think that Bara’s Czech lesson version of this conversation was going to be helpful. Thanks for helping though Bara.

“Sure, try me.” I said removing her panties.

“Prsy.” (breasts).

I like this game; it is one of my favorites. In how many games can everyone win if they just keep playing until they get their prize? I guess the story is not really about playing “bad patient and naughty nurse.” Did I say that? It must be time for another “bottle of clear thinking”. After a few days, I had not heard from her. That was fine. Sometimes the best relationships are ones that last a few hours.

Not quite, I received a phone call from an unknown number. Normally, I do not pick these up, sometimes I do. I heard a Czech woman’s voice. The voice asked if I knew who it was. “Yikes!”, this is a dangerous question. This is the same kind as the fabled “Does my ass look big in this?” I found my “happy place” and tried not to panic. Finally, I stared at the ceiling and asked “What would the Pantsman do?” So much for his help, the best I could come up with was “Yeah, sure.”

Again the voice responded, but this time it asked”Who am I?”

“Crap specifics.” I murmured to myself. Then like the blacksmith’s mallet, it crashed down on my head, “Alena, Hi how are you?” I owe the Pantsman a beer for that one

“I am great. I did not think that you would remember my name.” she asserted.

“You never, I had a great time the other night. A few too many beers but I think I could remember your name. What time did you leave anyway?”

“Around seven in the morning, it was so nice sucking your cock.”

For sure, this is the best way to start a conversation. It is quick and to the point. She did not mix metaphors or beat around the bush. I am all for talking dirty, but I was not exactly expecting it. Especially, in Czech language, more than half excited by the fact that I understood any of what she was saying I continued the conversation. I was trying to remember what I thought of her efforts. How do you say it politely? “Use less teeth.” I am really not sure what was going through my head when I agreed to see her again. The scratches and bruises on the little Hurikan, have barely healed and here I am inviting the same Black and Decker pecker wrecker back for a heaping helping of tidal surges. I am a good sport. She certainly was fun to talk to.

“Pity, you did not fuck with me last time.” she said like she would say “While you are at the store, pick me up some cocoa crispies!” and by that I guess that she deserved a second chance.

Every time I talk to her, it is the same. She is interested in me for certain things and not for others. I am not sure she knows what my job is, but it is nice to know that I can impress. However, the best part of my relationship with Alena is the conversation. I have not met someone yet that can add so many off-color comments to a situation as her. She has a way of making the weather report seem sexy. How many times have you sat back and thought, “It is fucking weather.” or “It is the perfect temperature to go down on someone?” This is pretty common when I chat with Alousek. Even if I think the Moravians have far better skills, she still is the most fun to have a conversation with. Czech girls know how to put things in a way that is certainly exciting. Alousek is more exciting to talk to than the best of them.

Ugly Thursday, Eggs and Whips

What makes a great holiday? Religious references, bank and governmental closures are all nice things, but they do not make a great holiday. Extra money in a paycheck also helps, but it is not the key. A truly great holiday can mix all of these, overt sexual references and a national panty raid. In Japan, there are several interesting holidays. Some even might be excellent, but none are great. Japanese men by the hundreds ride down a hill on a wicker log in their underwear, during one of their excellent holidays. Certainly hundreds of naked Japanese men and their large grass phallus is not an academic try to be a great holiday. It lacks a magnitude that five million Czech men chasing women with their hand-woven whips has. The fact that they do it for the ladies’ hair bows; certainly sets a high standard.

Easter week, in Czech starts on Green Wednesday. Across the country all of the schools let the kids out. Traditionally, village men collect the branches and things they will need to build the noise makers and polaská. Polaská, the Czech Easter whips, are the way to start a good holiday. Polaská are made by the men of the village from several small limbs and vines woven together. The whips are usually up to 3 ft (1m) long. Like everything else, some men have bigger “whips” than others. Their description is more medieval sounding than the actually are, but they are far from harmless. Village men are not the only ones working, village women are busily collecting things to decorate eggs and make baskets.

Ugly Thursday, is the day the men help the boys weave their whips and the women help the girls make their baskets. On Good Friday, the boys walk through the villages at dusk offering to scare the bad spirits away by screaming, shaking their rattles and threatening them with their whips. If the boys do a good job, the family receiving their services gives them a treat or a coin. All day Friday the girls are still working on their baskets and eggs. Their eggs and baskets take a great deal of skill and time, and truly great eggs can not be rushed like the polaská.

Czech egg traditions are certainly something to be seen. Intricately cut eggshells died, painted or simply white are hand-made and displayed in houses and windows across the country. Women and girls decorate the countryside with colorful ribbons and eggs. In an intriguing display of equality, Czech girls do not just lie down and let the boys take the spotlight. The women and girls go their villages on Saturday, displaying the eggs and baskets. If she did a good job, then she gets a treat or a coin. In the smaller villages in Moravia, this is an important tradition to the girls and they put a great deal of effort into creating artistic and skillful decorations. In the bigger cities, it is not so common. Ribbons and eggs decorate the city, even if the idea of going from flat to flat seems particularly un-Czech.

What the Czechs do on Sunday seems kind of a mystery, but they probably go visit Babička and Dědiček, grandma and grandpa. The real proof for the “great” status of this celebration is on Monday. With so few national holidays during the year, they get as many together as they can. On Easter Monday, it is a good day to be a man. Conversely, it is bad to be a girl’s butt. Czech men and boys patrol town stalking the women. There are stories about how the polaska will chase the bad spirits out of the women.

A few playful swats usually scare the spirits away. Usually, it gets you a shot of Becherovka or slivka and the ribbon from their hair for your polasko. By mid-afternoon the whole situation degrades into roving bands of men and boys rounding up randy girls and women for a bit of playful S & M and lots of drunken laughs. If all of these traditions did not make it a great holiday, leave it to the Czech men to “raise the bar.” No real Czech man would ever leave his favorite girl with just scared spirits, it is just not right. The job must be finished properly; she needs to be doused to wash the last of the spirits from her. Any lake or fountain will do. The wetter she gets the more the spirits understand. They need to know who the boss is and that they are getting their walking papers until next year. By the end of the day, particularly successful village boys will have covered their polaská with hair bows. Some of the village girls have to buy extra bows, judging from some of the whips, whip sluts. We know they only wear their best bows on the days they know they will be “whipped.” How can a holiday with whips, eggs, grandpa’s slivka and mom’s řízek not be great?

Living and Dying by the Sr. Master Chief’s Rule

The Senior Master Chief’s Rule (SMCR), is probably one of the single most important theorems for a young man living abroad. Maybe it is the most important for a young man living anywhere. Unlike most rules it is simple and self-explanatory, “Never pass up a piece of ass. You will never get it again.” At the beginning, this seems a simple truth, until it strikes you that it is more than just about ass. (Not really.)

The SMCR shares many similarities to more famous life theorems, “Neube sub ube”, “Carpe Diem” or “Thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife.” Literary or philosophical criticism of the SMCR as a theorem is far from the scope of this document. It can never be a bad thing to keep this rule in mind. It will lead to many adventures hidden from revelries of tourists and even frequent visitors.

Since arriving, a constant stream stories about the activities of young and middle-aged locals bombards my ears and mailbox alike. Initially the stream was unbelievable, but now it is just the way it is. A common version of Czech monogamy is not defined as one partner for a long time. It is more closely defined as “one partner at a time.” This does lead to interesting interactions between people. Sex is more like a big hug than some mind-altering religious experience for which it is constantly billed in the USA. Those “randy” Czechs got it right.

In my experience, most sexual concepts and tenets are different than in the USA. I have not heard an abstinence argument in school, where a brothel (privát), tobacco shop (tabák) and a liquor store (also found in a tabák, Czechs have “one-stop shopping” too) have are on the way to and from the elementary school. Condoms are openly for sale on almost every street corner, public space and mass transit station. Do not misread this, but the average 15 year old Czech girl gets more action than Ron Jeremy.

Lucky for Czech boys, the girls want it almost anywhere, and are not shy about location, time or position. When these teenagers get older it does not seem to stop, and why should it. Maybe western women should take note of how it is done in Central Europe. It would make going to church on Sunday a lot more interesting and probably reduce the number of headaches on Wednesday night. Apologies to Advil stock owners.

A corollary to this rule does exist, “Never kick a drunken Czech girl out of bed.” It does not need explanation either. She will make it up to you in the morning.

Riding the Night Tram

Ex-pat life in Prague usually implies “life without a car.” An important consideration then becomes the night tram and bus lines. At the stroke of midnight, the metros stop running. It can be a scary feeling to face a cab ride home drunk. Foreigner cab fares are calculated differently than they are for Czechs. For sure, the rate per kilometer is different after midnight for everyone. The saving grace for the Czech mass transit system, Metro Hlavni Dopravy (MHD), is after the metro stops there are hourly tram and busses to fill in to keep the city moving. The Prague MHD is a good system, and a three-month pass is only 1150 czk. A bargain considering that four stops on the metro is 12czk per trip.

When you select a place to live it is important to keep things like the night routes in mind. Life will be easier if you know you can get home even if you have to wait in the cold for an hour on the next night bus. After a single party in Dejvicka runs over and you are trying to find a way home half bombed out of your mind on home-made Balzams.

The first place I lived in Prague was in the middle of downtown. So I never used the metro at all. It was a close walk from almost anywhere I needed to go and it just was an unnecessary expense on such a tight budget. My second place was in the second ring of town. Inevitably, I became a daily metro commuter. Sure it did chop down some of the party nights trying to rush to the metro by the stroke of midnight. An early night was better than waiting on the night bus in the 0F (-20C) weather.

Sometimes in Prague I have been lucky, and others I have not. When I got a place only two metro stops from work I was lucky, and that it was on the night bus line as well was doubly lucky. Life is never so easy. Hlavní Nadraží, main train station is the best known gay pickup place in Prague. It is pretty easy to find couples fooling- around in the bushes all around the station after hours. I am all for a guy’s right to chose how he likes to get his, but I am still not so interested in being a voyeur to such activities.

I should not be so upset to find the closest stop down town for my night bus is at Hlavní Nadraží. On one of my first trips home on the “Prague Gay Train”, I found out why I should have been more concerned. It turns out that the train station is not the pickup place, the busses that stop there are. After a few stops on the night bus, the hand on your ass probably will not be a pick pocket. It may belong to someone much harder to deal with. I have not had any violent problems with this crowd. Guys are guys, and horny guys have a hard time taking no for an answer.

Just do your homework and live near a night tram or bus line. Make sure that the half-drunk ride home will be no more exciting than you are expecting. There is no good substitute for adequate preparation, unless of course it is preparation-H. On my night bus, Preparation-H seems more like a pickup line.

Of Supermodel Farms and Czech Asses

One of the most striking things about the Czech Republic is the women. Everywhere has women; it is not that simply, a summer trip to Prague or Brno is an inspiring experience. You can barely cross the street without seeing a woman that will make you double check. Tourists are easy to see, they are the people on the street who look like sprinklers. Their arms raised turning slowly as they walk down the street.

I am not talking two or three, but it seems that Czech women have it in their “jeans”, sorry “genes”. They are tall, well-proportioned, thin and have amazing skin. It is almost funny to see a Czech woman with a tan because it is so unusual in the sea of alabaster. They do not eat anything special and by nutritional standards they eat pretty poorly, just like everyone else. Czechs eat a large amount of junk food, chips chocolate, pudding and they drink beer like it is going out of style. It is hard to believe that they can keep such amazing figures with such dietary regimens.

It is not to say that many Czech women do not have good dietary habits, many can give lectures on “How to be Full on Just one Apple” or “Yogurt and Beer: Healthy, Fruity and Full of B Vitamins”. The sheer number of these supermodels on the streets leads me to believe that there must be a secret farm in the hills of Moravia. On this farm, are herds of six foot tall women running from field to field waiting for the farmer with his yogurt truck and beer barrels. Once a year he selects the best of the crop seek their fortune in the major cities.

Yes, I know this is crazy. After a few summer afternoons around the swimming beach you tell me the strange conclusions you reach as you sit drinking your beer watching tens of barely clad, and sometimes not, beauties walk passed. It is certainly an interesting challenge to keep your composure after a few beers when a beautiful topless woman wanders up to you in a crowd and tried to start a conversation with you in Czech. Makes those free lessons at work seem a lot more valuable. 

Passages

Passages are a “Prague-thing” I think. The construction in most of Czech is old and inbred. Nooks and crannies fill every spare inch along every block. A Czech passage address deep in the alley between buildings undoubtedly defies the old real-estate adage “location, location, location.”

Slow walks along the main squares of Prague will amaze new visitors. Ancient architecture and constantly reconstructed corridors twist and writhe through town. Unlike these neophytes, experienced Prague navigators never take the map route from point A to B. It simply takes too long. More likely the passage (“pasaž”) route is faster and easier. Deep within these passages are hundreds of stores. Mostly these stores consist of little more than one person stalls with an underpaid, surly attendant. Real Czech stores do not cater to tourists, so the prices are “very nice”, but services might be lacking.

“Buyers beware” is the order of the day in many of these stores. If you do not understand the “czechisms”, then your experience may be less than delightful. All sales are final without the “rozitko”, the famed Czech stamp, and usually with one too. In Czech, there is a belief that a stamped receipt that has the name, address and logo of a chain store is somehow more valid when it has a blurry and smudged stamp on it. I understand that a receipt is forgeable, but a Tesco, a British Wal-Mart, stamp could easily be stolen too. Not that it really matters, but it is impossible to believe that a warranty is not valid if the receipt is not stamped.

Forget about trying to return anything to these stores anyway. Their inventory will be different tomorrow and next week the store itself may cease to exist. Even if the store still does the same business, there is some unwritten rule of multiple repair trips are required before they will return any cash for any reason.

The joke about an Erotic City replacing a favorite pub or store in the passage is not funny. It is however, not uncommon to see a “House of Beaver”, “Pussy-rama”, “Crotch world” or some other “high-class” sex shop spring up seemingly over night in a neighborhood passage you were eating pizza in the week before. Erotic City is a reputable sex shop as sex shops go. However, many dildo emporiums found in the bowels of a long forgotten passage, are exactly what you might expect to find in something’s bowel.

Infinite excitement is not the only benefit of passage shopping. Often they are secret thoroughfares through the city. Minutes can be saved by cutting through metro stations and linked passages. The oldest parts of town are worm-eaten with these passages. Beware they are rarely straight and constant reconstruction often obscures yesterday’s path or landmark corners. The only thing that I have not seen or heard in these passages is the Romany girls plying their trade. If constant night-time propositions are not your style, you might consider the back way and stay off of the main drags.

Party Boats and Mašinka

During the summer after the “Velka Voda”, the 1,000 year floods, I realized that summer life in Prague revolved around the boats. No, there is no hidden sea in the middle of Europe, but the constant flotilla along the Vltava is the closest thing to a Riviera Prague will ever see. There is always a theme to these summers and the constant weekend trips down to the river seemed to make a different kind of water-borne Mašinka.

“Mašinka” is Czech for the “little train.” As party songs go, “Jede, Jede Mašinka” will never be as big as something by “Las Ketchup”. In Czech, Las Ketchup is not mentioned in the same breath as Maximum Overdrive and for good reason. Three beautiful Spanish girls certainly come up in separate conversation to three heavy-set Czech men. The first time I heard it, I was riding the Mašinka down the Vltava. Downstream the flood destroyed so much, but by summer was hard to tell there was ever a problem. The same three hour tourist cruise that costs twenty or more euros during the day is only 100czk and a whole lot more fun. A floating dance club is not my first choice, but cheap beer and overly friendly women do have their appeal.

Czech language is more than challenging. Many ex-pats do not attempt to learn more than some obligatory phrases. Well that is unfair. It is not uncommon to hear people in the market barely able to utter the most basic polite requests. I was amazed when one of my friends walked up to the DJ and asked to hear “Jede, Jede Mašinka”, “Go, Go Little Train”. He was trying, but was finding great difficulty picking up Czech. Mind you, his problem was with the Czech language not the Czech girls. We did call him the “Pantsman” for a reason. He started a ruckus when Maximum Overdrive started with “… all of the drunken guys on the train…” It was clear he knew Czech party songs.

The boat that leaves from Palackeho Most is always the most fun. Palackeho Most is the bridge at the “Dancing Building”. Over the summer, the boys from the office cruised on most of them. The boat that docks on the upstream side of Palackeho Most had the most lively crowd and lots of women. Most concerning was the range of beer prices. The PM has 20 czk glasses, but on some of the other boats the price was as high as 30 or 35czk. Hmm maybe there is a correlation. While an explicit statistical analysis of the price of beer on a booze cruise in Prague and the ratio between the sexes remains beyond the scope of this paper. I would venture a SWAG to say that it does.

There are many stories to tell about these boat trips. Alas that would incriminate too many people. We had an amazing time and only once were we disappointed on the Čekov Most boat. Lazy cruises along the Vltava are the Bohemain equivalent to the American college “meat markets”. No doubt, the Praguers understand the meat markets, judging from the staggering count throughout the city. None are as much fun as the boats, not even “Nejitstota.”

Setting the Stage

Some of the first things I can remember about the Czech Republic are probably the most indicative of my time here. I found a place to live on the second day of trying. A bit painful but it was settled. There are many people in Czech fishing for ex-pats. The worst part is not the price difference it is that they do not follow basic business tenets that they would follow in their country. I will not say that they cheat or steal from you, but they do with impunity, because the Czech authorities are not known for their effectiveness or concern.

That is not to slur the police. The police are for the most part professional and pretty much do not bother you if you let them eat their pečivo, baked goods. The key to the Mětské Policie, city police, is not to appear to speak any Czech. If you do not they will hassle you for your passport. A wise choice in Prague is not to carry your passport, because you can not leave the country without it. You must comply with all police instructions. All you have to do is to tell them that they have to take you home to get it. However, they understand not about wasting time with something that is going to take them far from their beats. Mětské are great they can tell you in German, French or Czech where something is. Thankfully, they rarely speak English.

I lived in New Town, Nové Město, which compared to Old Town, Staré Město, was new, but I lived in a historic building which is short for “no services available.” Modern services are all available a block away. I lived on the historic block where the city of Prague sells movie companies space to shoot. It is a convenient place to shoot since there are tram rails and wide streets for their trucks and cameras. After living there for a while, I realized that historical means really long time between repairs.

When you really look around my old neighborhood, you see that there are lots of things going on. There are several restaurants, bars, three schools and many shops only a short walk from my door. A block away is a 400yo convent and at least three internet sex companies, a meat-market bar-dance club and two brothels. Just in case you can not talk someone into coming home with you at the bar. There are always friendly girls a little farther down the street. Yeah, my shop neighbor hood had ultra-convenient one-stop shopping for poon’tang. On Saturday night, there were more than a few places to “sew your wild oats.”  My neighborhood had an end-to-end solution, however unsavory the final state may be. If your Saturday night is good enough and you wake up praying for crop failure. By Monday morning, then there is a place to seek salvation or a new name and a job as a friar.

Rarely is a stack of old rocks and wood that makes the memories. I realized that  I was not in Florida, when I noticed something moving in the shadows against the wall of the local meat market. As I approached I saw that it was a pair “coupling”, for lack of a better term, against the wall. Trying to retain a modicum of American dignity, I tried ineffectively not to watch. After a moment or two,  there I was gawking from 15ft (4.5m) away. Making eye-contact with her shook me from my malaise. Unphased, they continued against the wall, her bare thigh in his right hand her arms under his shoulders. I became self-conscious when she blew me a kiss. So I walked into the club.

Later, she returned to the club sans her friend. When I made eye-contact again with her, I saw I was in over my head. I will not say she was a pro, because that is not nice. I will say that everything I knew about the way the world worked was being rewritten as I stood there. After a few minutes speaking to her she was certainly someone new to “talk to” and maybe she could “show me around town.” Needless to say, the first week in Prague set the stage for many new experiences. None of which happen to most of anyone I have ever heard of in America. Unless you think the stories in the skin rags are true.

Shy People

Czechs are a wonderful and sharing people. I just wish they were not so eager to share their emphysema and chain-smoke. Maybe that is more than a little unfair. One of the most noticeable traits of Czech people is there almost universal shyness. It is their nature. A random woman on the street in Prague or Brno probably speaks four languages. Beware she probably speaks passable, if not fluent English. She is kind and caring, but too shy to talk to you. If you at least try to pronounce “Dekuji” or “Dobry Den”, you will see the ice chipped away from all but the quietest Czech wallflowers. The ex-patriot (ex-pat) legend says that the Czech Republic is the only place in the world where you can find a woman, who loves to clean, loves to cook, speaks three languages, has a master’s degree and is the best lover since Lady Chatterley all for 200 dollars per month. That seems like an awfully tough standard to meet, but if American girls have to fight the perfect vision of womanhood that is the new “Drunk in the Park Barbie”, I bet Czech girls will survive. To all of those 10 year old 140lbs (65kg) American girls, the simple way to win one back against the evil minions of the “Barbie Perfect Figure and Grooming Society” is to step away from the Twinkie. Just go Czech; grab a six-pack of Schlitz and some yogurt and sit back and relax. Czech girls can show you how to fit into a size 5 dress even when they are pregnant without trick photography. I bet if you look closely that you will find more than a few Prague grannies in Prague donning thongs in the morning. Next time a Czech woman checks you out; do not believe for a second that “shy to strangers” means anything more than that.