Someone who didn’t know any better might think that Eugene and I were close, that he was a good friend.

But if you’re going to try to kill yourself, says Eugene as we cross the Charles Bridge on our way to Old Town, we get to watch.

The Sex Machines Museum is very near the astronomical clock. I stop in the square for a moment to see if they’ve got the clock working yet. There’s a large crowd of tourists with their cellphones and iPads at the ready, and a feeling of high enthusiasm in the air.

I check the time. The watch Oz gave me says that it is a couple of minutes to the hour, so I decide to wait to see what might happen. When I look at the watch, I can’t help but wonder if this is the expensive watch or the cheap one. It doesn’t matter, but I am curious.

You think he’s going to give you an expensive watch? says Eugene.

It’s probably stolen, says Kitty. And you know what happens then.

The hour comes and goes. The clock doesn’t move, and neither does the crowd. It’s as though the people are fixed in place. The clock is a major tourist attraction, one of the reasons to come to Prague, so it stands to reason that it has to work.

Even if it doesn’t.

The enthusiasm turns to annoyance and disappointment.

“What a rip-off.”

“I could have watched the video at home.”

“So, this is the famous clock?”

A woman carrying a purse the size of a steamer trunk swings around and cuts a game trail through the crowd.

“If it was in Trenton,” she says as she tramps past me, dragging two teenagers along behind her, single file, “the thing would sure as hell work.”

The Sex Machines Museum is just down a narrow street. I stand at the entrance and look at the lipstick-red banners. I don’t mean to, but I begin to keep track of the people who go in.

All couples.

I probably stand at the entrance for a good twenty minutes, and the only people who go into the Sex Machines Museum are couples.

Go ahead, says Eugene. Single guy in a sex museum? What’s the worst they can think?

What happens if they raid the place? says Kitty.

That you’re pathetic? Eugene tips his hat back. No secret there.

I vote we go in, says Chip.

I’ll stay outside with the twins, says Kitty.

I take a step towards the entrance, money in hand, when an older couple comes out. The woman is checking her camera. The man is leaning over her shoulder, watching the screen.

“Are you sure,” he says, “you deleted the one of me and the giant wood dildo?”

I make a graceful turn and walk away.