Always thought our neighbors, tattooed Norwegian folk in “computers,” were a little off. When we were first acquainted, they were murmuring from the depths of their drugs trips. Want a postcard? Even entering their apartment meant traversing a fog of cigarette smoke. But recently they had begun knocking on our door with delicious dinner leftovers, bottles of wine, and invitations to concerts and rooftop Spanish lessons. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all? ‘Tis a glory for us Americans to forge neighborly bonds. Maybe these ones would be harmless and benevolent, like Canada.
To solidify the alliance, I invited them out with us for drinks at Te Matare Ramirez / I Will Kill You Ramirez (http://www.tematareramirez.com/). I had gotten word that Tuesday nights include a little table entertainment – of puppet porn. Now who wouldn’t be intrigued? The Norwegians twisted in their chairs to receive me, and I noted that just beyond them, the computer screens glowed with various images of female breasts. Approximately two seconds later I learned that they run over a hundred porn sites. (“Are those boobs?”) Everyone has to make a living, I guess. But I love that my bedroom window is across from them.
They agreed to come, and we were accompanied by some friends from my travel meet up, and some strangers I recruited from The Crack Up. What a group we were. Americans, Norwegians, Canadians, English, Dutch, Colombians, Argentines… From age 20 to 67, more than twenty pairs of eyes soaking in the promiscuity of puppets. I guess everyone appreciates a good show.
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