How I Spent My Summer Vacation
--Excerpt from the movie Rules of Attraction--
Took a charter flight on a DC-10 to London, landed at Heathrow, took a cab to the city center. Don't let people lie to you: hostels are for the ugly. I'm staying at Home House, the most beautiful hotel in the world. Called a friend from school who was selling hash, but she wasn't in. I meet a couple of Brits who take me to of all places, Camden Street. I flirt a bit at the Virgin Megastore, buy a few CDs, then follow some girls with pink hair. I wandered around trying to get laid, until it started to rain, then went back to Home House. Ministry of Sound is dead so I go to Remform, but it's gay night. I find the one hetero girl in the place and we dry hump on the dance floor. We cab it back to Home House. I strip her clothes off, suck her toes and we fuck. Hung out there for four or five days, met the world's biggest DJ, Paul Oakenfold, kept missing the Changing of the Guard, wrote my mom a postcard I never sent, bought some speed from an Italian junkie, who was trying to sell me a stolen bike, smoked a lot of hash that had too much tobacco in it, saw the Tate, saw Big Ben, ate a lot of weird English food. It rained a lot, it was expensive and I'm jonesing it so I split for Amsterdam.
The Dutch all know English, so I didn't have to speak Dutch which was a relief. I cruise the Red Light District, visit a sex show, a sex museum, smoked a lot of hash. I meet a Dutch TV actress and we drink absinthe at a bar called Absinthe. The museums were cool I guess. Lots of Van Goghs and the Vermeers were intense. Wandered around, bought a lot of pastries, ate some intense waffles. Went and bought some coke and cruised the Red Light District until I found some blonde with big tits that reminds me of Lara. I gave her a hundred guilders. In the end, she pulls me out and I come between her tits, even though I'm wearing a rubber. Afterward we make small talk about AIDS, her Moroccan pimp and herself. I wake to the sound of a wino singing. It's eight AM and hot as blazes. I pretend to ice-skate around central station while someone else plays the sax. Trade songs with a Kiwi girl and then split for Paris by train.
Wander the Champs-Elysees, climb the Eiffel Tower for only seven francs because the ticket machine was broken. Got the hang of the metro, took it everywhere. Went to a Ford model party and hooked up with a Romanian model named Corina. She chugs my cock at the Mariott Champs-Elysees, which is good. We played billiards, went shopping, I think she gave me mono. Drove a Ferrari that belonged to a member of the Saudi royal family. Made out with a Dutch model in front of the Louvre. Saw the Arc de Triomphe and almost became road kill crossing the street. "Oakie" invites me to Dublin so I catch an Aer Lingus flight and stay at the Morrison.
Dublin rocks like you can't imagine. Oakenfold lets me spin some discs with him. Irish girls are as small as leprechauns. I swap hickies with a drunk one. After groping my abs and calling me "Mr. L.A." she strips for me in the bathroom of the club. Sneak into the Guiness factory and steal some stout, so good my dick goes hard.
I fly to Barcelona, which is a low-rent bust; too many fat American students, too many lame meat markets. I dropped acid at the Segrada Famila, which was a trip to say the least. Cruise up the coast to Museo Gala Dali, but had no more acid, which sucked. Some girl from Camden calls me on my cell, so I let her listen to the church bells in Cadaques. Canta Cruz is beautiful, but there are no girls here, just old hippies, so I went to Switzerland where, ironically, I couldn't find anyone who had the time.
Took the Glacier Express up the Shiltone, which was beautiful in a way I can't describe. EuroPass into Italy and ended up in Venice, where I meet a hot girl who looks like Rachael Leigh Cook and speaks better English than I do. She's living for a year on only five dollars a day. We gondola around, buy some masks. She think's I'm a captalist because my hotel room costs more in one night than she's spending on her entire trip, but she doesn't mind it so much when I pay the bills.
I ditch her and hook up with a couple who obviously want a threesome. Too much tension there but the doofus offers to drive me to Rome. An offer I jump at. Traffic is bad and we're stopped for hours without moving. The wife turns out to be a freak, the guy starts to wig out on me. It's lts like a Polanski film. We stop for a while in Florence where I see some big dome. A bomb goes off and I lose the weird couple, which is probably for the best.
Ended up in Rome, which is big and hot and dirty. It's just like L.A., but with ruins. I went to the Vatican, which was ridculoisly opulent. Stood for two hours to get into the Sistine Chapel, which -now that it's been cleaned- looked fake. I meet two underage Italian girls who I try to talk into a threesome while I jack-off onto them. Bored, I buy them ice cream instead. My hotel has a gym so I work out. I bump into some guy from Camden who says he knows me, but I'm sure he's a fag so I lose him. I try to fat and instead shit my pants. Back in my hotel room I masturbate and have a pain in my groin. That night I dream about a beautiful girl half in water, stretching her lean body. She asked me if I liked it and I tell her she can clean fish with it. I don't know what it means, but I wake well rested, masturbate in the shower and check out.
I make my way back to London and hang out at a Piccadilly Circus. Hmm. Palakon. I swap shirts with some upper-crusty Cambridge chick. Hers was an Agnes B, mine a Costume Nationale. She acts stuffy and prudish, but is really wild underneath it all. She barely looks at my abs, although she wants to. The next day I drop acid and get lost on the subway for a full day and can't find my way out. I meet a cute girl who lets me jack off onto her as long as no cum gets onto her Paul Smith coat. We get stoned while listening to a Michael Jackson record and the next morning I wake up talking to myself. I have a big bump on my head from flailing in my sleep. I get my stuff and barely make my plane back to the United States.
I no longer know who I am and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger.