Short Story | Dirty Beaches

We were on tour in Belgrade and a few ladies took us out for late-night adventure. The car was an old beat-up Serbian make from the late ’80s. Everyone was swigging from this bottle of whiskey that came out of nowhere – including the driver. Long story short, we almost got T-boned twice; ran a few red lights; and the car ran out of fuel or almost died and went kaput. By some miracle, we survived it all. I remain amazed by Serbian women’s capacity to handle stressful situations. While drunk-driving. I was impressed.

Later on that night we met an opera composer named Alexander at a bar and he invited us to his house to listen to his new opera. On the way there, two transvestites in a taxi started to catcall me and Shub, shouting, ‘Holaaaaa chicos! ¿Habla espaňol? Oye, chicos! hooooooooo!’ Then one of them got out of the car and flashed his/her ass at us, which was a beautiful, manly ass. The Serbians kind of freaked out and told us, ‘This never happens in Serbia!’

Later we discovered that Serbia is incredibly homophobic, which was why they all freaked out, worried that some neo-Nazi hooligans might pop out of nowhere and attack us for talking to transgender sweethearts. No one died. It was a fun night with many bizarre moments that strung together a magical evening on tour –  moments that never happen in everyday life in your own city. Lesson: don’t drink and drive! It’s dangerous and you can fucking die.

Dirty Beaches’ next road adventure is at OT301, Amsterdam with ERAAS on 16 May and is free for Subbacultcha! members.