Barcelona is not too unlike a popular American city, with its tourist, hip, art, and business centers all wrapped up in efficient mass transit and coated with a general air of petty crime. It’s easy to feel right at home.
I stayed right off La Rambla, the city’s main tourist trap, a promenade of overpriced restaurants, souvenir shops, and street artists. It’s easy to conclude that this isn’t the “real” part of Barcelona when you have to fight your way through slow-moving pockets of tourists who find it fascinating that there is yet one more shop selling key chains. English and French were common languages spoken. Younger Australian tourists poured into the popular KFC and groups of 40-year-old German men prowled around, searching for their lost youth.
Towards the end of La Rambla is the Barcelona red light district. I definitely had to visit because it was mentioned in Fodor’s, the travel guide for old people. I noticed one sex shop getting a lot of foot traffic so I decided to go in (for research purposes). Shelves of DVD porn greeted me, along with gigantic black dildos that cost sixty euros. After browsing around I noticed some private booths arranged in a circle towards the back. This was the live peep show where for two euros you could watch some girl strip live. Only creepy old men were coming out of the booths; it looked so lame.
I enter the booth and put in two euros. The lights dim and the peep window slowly rises, revealing a fat, naked woman sprawled across a circular bed that rotated like in the movie Austin Powers. I concluded that I was not anonymous when I could see the faces of other men through their windows.
After the fat woman was fed, she put on her clothes and left, replaced by a hotter and younger girl of probable Eastern European descent. As my peep window started closing, a half-naked petit man followed in behind her.
This would be my first difficult decision of the trip: Do I pay more money to continue this perv escapade or do I look at some more dildos for free? In one fell swoop I can make American strip clubs completely irrelevant by watching two people have sex right in front of me. Besides, maybe it would be a fulfilling experience.
I waited five minutes before I put in more money so I could skip the foreplay. The booths are starting to fill up fast as word spreads between the dirty old men that actual sex may take place. I put in two euros and watched the girl give mediocre head.
While I didn’t know the other men sharing the booths near me, I felt a sort of camaraderie with them since we were all sharing the same experience. Well, except for the guy who was furiously masturbating (judging by his rapid and intense upper-body movements). His window went up and did not come back down, so I can only conclude that he finished himself off. I started to feel bad for the janitor of the establishment while wondering how MacGyver would open a closed door without actually touching the handle.
Alright, one more go and I’m done (no, not in that way). I waited a few more minutes and put in another two euros. This is equivalent to a total of eight dollars and all I have to show for it so far was my door-opening hand contaminated with other mens’ sperm. The peep window slowly raised ? of course this time it took forever. Finally it opened to reveal the man demolishing it from behind. Doggy-style, without a condom. Cool.
While the petit man had the plainest look on his face, like he was thinking of baseball, it was obvious the girl was experiencing complete ecstasy because I counted her having eight or nine orgasms in only three minutes. No way it was fake. I wanted to stay for the money shot but who knows how long that would take. Anyway, it was time for dinner.