I’ve met a lot of great people while I’ve been traveling. As I assumed, being on the road alone has helped push me to be a bit more outgoing with people. I’ve had conversations on trains and in hostels, I’ve enjoyed evenings with friends and friends of friends, I’ve had some wonderful times hanging out with connections first made in the online world and I’ve had a couple encounters that have even gotten physical.

In Prague, though, I had my first emotional attachment on this trip, albeit one that was as quick to end as it was to begin.

On the recommendation of some friends, I stopped by a club called Techtle Mechtle not far from my hotel. Unlike most of the places I had seen in Prague, this was a local hangout and not one geared to tourists, backpackers or bachelor parties. It was a breath of fresh air. I mean that figuratively, since the air was actually seeping with enough smoke to make a Whitesnake video.

The place was extremely nice, clean and well decorated with a fun, friendly staff. It was more of a lounge than a club, but had a small dance floor. Though it wasn’t packed, the tables were all taken: Russian gangstas in Adidas track suits and bottles of vodka on ice, small groups of co-workers working on post-happy hour beers, and in one case, a couple of older British men who seemed oblivious to the fact that they were partying with a group of trannies who had made their way over from the gay bar across the street.

The music was current dance pop – heavy on Katy Perry and David Guetta, which was perfect for the light-hearted mood I was in.

Fashion show segments on the video screens provided atmosphere rather than entertainment value. Regardless of what’s on, my eyes are always drawn to television so I learned an awful lot about fashion designers and their new lines.

In between checking out the latest ridiculous outfits from Betsey Johnson, my eyes were also drawn to a woman standing on the opposite side of the circular bar. She was with a group of friends, but our eyes met frequently and she seemed more interested in me than in the conversations that surrounded her.

She was beautiful. So much that every time she looked at me and smiled, I had to slyly look around to make sure it was meant for me. I also checked to ensure no one had drawn a mustache on me with a Sharpie. Over and over, my eyes were drawn to her dark brown hair, beautiful eyes and playful smile. She looked a bit like Debra Messing, except she was young, attractive and had a great figure.

Every time she looked at me and smiled, I had to slyly look around to make sure it was meant for me.

After being ousted from my seat during a visit to the men’s room, I maneuvered a bit closer to where she was standing. A few moments later, the trannies cleared out as they took the older gentlemen somewhere to maliciously tease them in private.

The now empty table was quickly snatched by the group that held the object of my obsession. As they were pulling their chairs around, one of the women in the group approached me and said “you can sit down as well, if you’d like.”

I was taken aback a bit but smiled and sat.

I quickly learned that the woman who invited me to sit was named Vanya, worked in Prague as a receptionist and was originally from Bulgaria. As we talked, looks continued to pass across the table between me and the woman whose name I now knew was Marina.

“She’s very upset,“ I was told.

“Upset? Why?”

“She wants to talk to you, but doesn’t speak any English. Only Czech and Russian.”

Sadly, I couldn’t even make use of my horrendous French. Or at least some basic Spanish or Italian.

Though we had absolutely no language commonality, Marina and I spent a couple of hours together on the dance floor and at the table. While Vanya played translator for a while, she was moving around, working her own love connections.

The club offered a wifi network so the two of us were able to enjoy some small bits of verbal interaction, courtesy of Google Translate and my iPod Touch. I probably told her that she had a beautiful horse, but it made her smile anyway. Sadly, even that communication was one-way because I didn’t have a Cyrillic keyboard in my iPod.

Her look, her smile drenched me with emotions.

Despite our inability to exchange a single verb, noun or adjective, there was an undeniable chemistry between us. Her look, her smile drenched me with emotions. And they were a bunch of the good ones, not just the sexual kind. I know it sounds ridiculous, but in all honesty, it was the strongest immediate pull I’ve had toward someone in several years.

And sadly, that’s really about the end of it. I gave Vanya a card with my email, since she’s going to be heading to Munich the same weekend I am, but I’m doubtful there will be any contact from her or Marina. Language issues aside, there’s not much opportunity to get involved with someone who doesn’t stay put for more than a week at a time.

Some quick kisses goodbye and they were gone. As she left, Marina seemed visibly depressed that we were two ships that hadn’t even had a chance to pass in the night. At best, she was docked at a port I couldn’t reach.

Sometimes following the wind can be a pain in the ass.