I’m traveling Europe with a friend. I’m drinking good beer from a very thin silver can. It’s from Crate and Barrel and its embossed. I attend an outdoor concert from one of the Balkan bands I used to listen to in the early 2000s. The crowd, mostly male, does a wave of the song “Kassaka”. The concert is over and we leave, paying for some poles but not the beer. We carry our bags of clothes on rafts through a canal. I see maintenance workers on an encased rock. A pair of exhausted teenagers swims up and wants to use one of our boats to rest on.
The city turns out to be Paris. I visit what’s supposed to be CCSF Paris, with a big red heart, but it’s just a site under some freeway overpasses on the outskirts. People are looking at faded but stunningly large graffiti and there’s light pouring in from above. I think I’ve lost two rings in the canal swim, but then I find them on the ground, bent and crushed. I also pick up.a watch band.
I’m nursing Chris’ dick back to health. I’m reassured, as I empty both mine and his, that they’re about the same size. His seems whiter and cleaner though. I think about testing whether it’s more sensitive, but decide masturbating with it would be uncouth.
I saw Steen across the street from my house getting into a convertible to drive away. I stopped getting in my car and came up to say hi. I told him I lived across the street, he asked “oh, in Pete’s old place?”