“Who’s the one that got away?” Honza asked.
“Bjork, sweet Bjork.”
“That singer from Iceland?”
“Yes, that lovely princess! “
Rewind. We left the Uz Jsme Doma show early. As we waited for the metro to take us back to Prague 6, I saw the sight for my sore eyes to behold. Bjork was there with some of her friends.
I kid you NOT! I let my girlfriend know we were getting on the same car as Bjork. My girlfriend, man was she a joke. I was so ready to dump her. She had no personality and was one of the biggest posers I’ve ever tried to groove with. I think she was b*tching about something that night. But what else was new?
So… we end up right next to Bjork and her friends.
Trying to give off that “Suave Guy” feel, I was determined not to talk to her first… . Let her come to me. I had my Nick Cave shirt on, so her friend started a conversation with me. “Have you read his new book?” Of course I read it, I was a Nick Cave fanatic!
“Yeah, how about you?”
“I’m half way through.”
There it started. I talked to her friend for a few more minutes when Bjork interrupted, “Would you like a Jellybean?” Would I? If you just pulled that out of your ass I’d suck on it.
“Yes”, I said politely.
All the while, my poser girlfriend was fuming. She had no idea who Bjork was, at the time Bjork hadn’t gone solo yet. I’m glad she finally left the Sugarcubes. As Bjork and I continued to talk, I started to get the feeling we were clicking on a higher level. I didn’t tell her I knew who she was, I’m still not sure if she knew I knew. All I know is sparks of lust were a flyin from both parties involved.
Something needed to be done about that girlfriend of mine. I was ready for our relationship to end, but I didn’t realize I should’ve ended it before meeting the lovely Bjork. Who knew I’d have a chance with Bjork?
“How can I get rid of her?” I kept thinking.
I tried to contain my flood of emotions as the train crept closer to Hradcanska. Bjork looked in my direction every couple of minutes. She would flash those Icelandic teeth and bat those eyes at me. I was Giddy. As we tubed along, Bjork asked if I had a girlfriend. I told her NO, and that b*tch Jennifer hit me in the back… HARD… (I guess she heard me.)
Thinking quickly, I whispered to Bjork, “This girl’s been following me all night. I really want to shake her loose and spend time with you this evening.”
“Then, shake her loose, like you said,” she whispered in her perfect Icelandic accent.
My Bjork boner was at full peak. I was picturing her Icelandic pink nipples rubbing across my chest as she breathed in ecstasy. Would I hear her Icelandic accent when she moaned in orgasm? The train pulled into Malostranska station, and that’s when I made my move. Just when the doors were about to close, I gave my girlfriend a “polite” shove out the closing doors.
AND IT WORKED!
She was gone and I was ready to bathe in Bjork’s fair skin. The train screeched to a halt. I saw sparks out of the window. I was tripping because it was like lightening hit and then it died down into sparks. The train was stopped for 3 minutes, but it seemed like hours… with my Bjork boner and all…
And before I knew what was happening, the doors opened and two police had me in handcuffs and were reading my rights. I was outside the train while it took off from the platform, carrying Bjork away from me forever. WHAT is so important that I needed to be handcuffed?
When I pushed Jennifer out of the train, she somehow got caught in the door and was dragged along until she splattered against the wall. She had irritated me for a month, and now in my moment to shine as a sexual human being, she irritates the end of the platform, thus continuing to irritate me from the pits of death in her afterlife. There was a safety advisory on train. Didn’t she hear it before I pushed her out?
F*CK ME!
That night to consume Bjork in ways one can only imagine was forever erased in time. “To the one that got away,” I said lifting my prison issued milk to the heavens.
“Convicts, lunch is over, back to your cells!” yelled the guard in Czech.
My Bjork boner was now a sore assh*le since my cellmate, Miroslav, recruited me as his b*tch. He’s darker and hairier than Bjork, but you’d be amazed at the power of my imagination when I bite my lip and close my eyes.
