Written by Nooky Lair of Team Oasis
  
   "Do you have a lighter for me?". An older lady walks towards a young man. He looks surprised and responds rather slow and insecure. "Euhm... no i don't smoke, i'm sorry." His mind is focused on something else. It has gotten way to late and he feels lost in this medieval town that doesn't want to go to sleep.
  
   When he tries to walk further the woman is suddenly right in front of him. Before he realizes what is happening his crotch is being squeezed. "Do you like this baby", the woman says. The young man feels a shock run through his entire body. He cant help that his body responds to the call of the woman before his mind could process the event. An unpleasant feeling of disgust, wonder and shame is what follows.
  
   The young man doesn't know how fast how fast he could get out of this situation. He almost pushes the lady to the ground with his first fierce steps. Luckily each step closer to the hotel brings more relief, till the young man comes to his senses again.
  
   Back in his hotel his mind goes over the whole evening again. Where did it go wrong? It all started so nicely with a friendly chat, a good beer and tap on the back from his famous fellow-countryman who invited him. César talked about his great life, that he doesn't miss Portugal at all. "Fuck Lissabon, this is so much better!", he shouted. The strong words made an impression on the young man.
  
   A few

beers later the two leave in good spirit. Together they cross the central square with its nicely lit astronomical clock. The young man stopped to enjoy the view while waiting for the hourly spectacle, like so many others do. Unfortunately this was rudely interupted by a pusher who tries to get them to 'a special place with girls'. A first glance of how the night would become.
  
   The same thing happened two times more before the other end of the square was reached. The young man was not happy that César started conversations with all three of them. While waiting he saw that many, mostly drunk, guys were persuaded by pushers like these. Strangely enough it all seemed all so normal here. Local crowds didn't protest to these touts claiming the old city streets. They just walk by like its part of the scenery, nothing out of the ordinary nothing vulgar.
  
   The sexual propositions out in the open made the young man feel uncomfortable. He wanted to know what Césars plans where for the night. "Don't worry I'll take you to warm place, where our southern blood... our passion for life can fully blossom", is what he replied. These words sounded great, almost poetic, coming out of his mouth. It calms the young man and he regains the spirit to carry on. Soon they reach their destination: a rather chique, baroque club in the heart of the city. In the cloakroom César grabs the young man and looks at him straight in the eyes. "Here we are Plínio, now enjoy yourself. Life is too short to let it pass by."
  

   The extent of these words only became clear the moment he walks into the main room. An orgy of sound and light overwhelms the young lad and he cannot move any further. Shocked by the extravaganza that takes places right in from of his eyes. Waitresses with kitten masks playfully walk by topless, or in some cases with red nipple tassels. They don't seem to mind that some guys try to pull them off. In the central area poledancers go for the full monty to make the men spend hard cash. On the somewhat smokey backside are private lounges where dancers give special, explicit shows to the VIP's. Some ladies feed the men with grapes and others are being fed, lying around naked on one of the many classically-shaped sofas. It seemed that César arranged a table there as well.
  
   Though shocked the young man realized what will become of this evening if he continues. The uncomfortable feeling from earlier on transformed to a bitter loneliness. A sense of disbelief traveled through his brains. Is this what they promised me with a good and honest life in the Czech Republic?
  
   The clock ticks. The young men looks up and sees its a quarter to four in the morning. He is still unable to sleep, haunted by the vivid memories he cannot erase. He walks to bathroom and takes a bunch of sleeping pills. After swallowing all of them he looks into the mirror. He sees a sad face and knows he doesn't belong in this world, not here at least. Tomorrow the plane to Tehran awaits, a place he can call home.