Fuck The Burn.

He was sitting by the Eiffel Tower. This guy who would come to be known to me as The Burn. He was alone, kinda pathetic. I remember seeing him and wondering if he was fucking serious. He was writing in a fucking journal. Yeah, a journal.

I was waiting for two birds. That's the only reason you found me in Paris anywhere near the Eiffel Tower. I had previously met these two girls in Amsterdam. They were from Tokyo and there to get high for the weekend and wouldn't you know the three of us were the victims of overbooking. We had to share a loft, me and these two little beauties who were always wearing knee high, plaid socks. They were honestly always dressed as school girls, young ones, Asian nation ones. I wanted to fuck 'em straight away, both of them at the same time. I had to.

I bought bud, they had blow. Really excellent blow. Most narcotics found in Amsterdam can be considered prime to say the least. It was early in the night that first night and we were just starting to drink. I called a drug union, made theirs mine, mine theirs so I could hit a couple rails before we went out on the town. They didn't speak a lot of English, but my insistence made everything of theirs available to me, which was nice.

We went out, drank, smoked, bumped all night. At midnight, the shorter of the two gave me head in an alley, stopped right before I came. Knowing. Fucking knowing.

When we got back to the room around 3, it went right away. They started peeling each other's clothes off. They did it so sweet and gentle. I promised myself I would take note. I did. Then they took turns going down on each other. I watched them writhe and tease and play. It was one of the most magnificent things I'd ever seen. Then, they moved for me, ripped my shirt, took off my belt with their teeth. I was naked, kissing one from the side, looking down on another from above. She frowned, looking at me, waiting. Jesus Christ, I wasn't hard. I wasn't hard. Something was wrong.

She took me into her mouth. I think it was the taller one, but I had lost track. By now they were both on their knees, double team revival. Nothing was happening. Nothing. Not a movement. I didn't know what it was. I tried to explain. I said things like whiskey and blow and weed and that mystery yellow pill I dropped on Marnixstraat and fucking blue balls and double-fucking two Japanese school girls and the combination of everything but they didn't speak a lot of English.

The last thing I remember was watching them come for each other, sitting across the room in a rocking chair, praying it was all a dream, that I didn't actually fuck all of this up.

So there I was, waiting on a bench by the Eiffel Tower, waiting for redemption, waiting for these two girls to show up and knowing they never would. Things like that only happen once. I moved over, sat next to this person that someone called Riley. He offered me some bread and wine and I thought I could use him, this pretty faced, self-proclaiming "Adonis." What a fucking asshole. I liked him right away. I thought if we stuck together, I was gonna get laid and soon. I had been watching the way even French girls were behaving around him. Certainly, I thought he would be my ticket. We got really drunk that night.

Fuck the Burn.

Durban