A travel story that will make you cringe. the Masoch Cafe, Lviv, Ukraine

(Contains BDSM)

I wonder how many other tourists have made this mistake.

I had just arrived on the ground in Lviv and I needed to get some work done.

No big deal, find a cafe with Wifi and basta. Ok, where to start?

The Old Town of Lviv is spectacular but it's also a bit of a maze for the uninitiated.

I swear for the first couple of days it was violating the laws of physics, I'd walk up an alley and come out in a spot that I could have been sure was on the other side of town.

Anyway, enough gawking at the architecture, I have projects waiting.

Hey, what's this place? Looks interesting. Very tasteful glass doors. There's a statue in front, looks very historical.

The guy's name is "Von Sacher-Masoch"... Galician writer from the area... Hah, I wonder if that's the same guy who invested "masochism" ...? Don't tell the tourist board!

Whatever.

Go inside, buttonhole the waitress.

Do you have wi-fi? "Da, of course"

Fantastic.

Do you have a wall plug where I can plug in and charge my laptop?

Waitress looks a little confused, but "yes, of course, follow me."

She sets me up right next to the bar, in the back.

Dingy place, pitch dark.

Whatever, no time to find somewhere else.

Waitress hands me a menu.

Uh, I'll have the Sacher Torte please. (Looks delicious!) And a cup of tea.

Waitress nods approvingly.

Oh hey, the menu even finishes with a quote from Sacher-Masoch, talking about how the natural role of women is to use men's desires to enslave them.

I guess they do know who the guy is!

Moving on. Plug in laptop. Open screen.

Excuse me, what's the wi-fi password here? Waitress tells me.

Bluetooth headset out. Jack in.

I still feel a little out of place here, these people really weren't expecting this. Whatever, I'm paying, I'll laptop if I want to.

Open up email.

Holy crap, lots of stuff to do. That's what I get for not checking it for a WHOLE DAY.

Skype call with one of my people. Clear up some confusion. Done.

Now some orders to deliver. These clients are going to be stoked. Pull up documents --

THWACK

Sudden burning sensation on my back.

You have got to be kidding me.

Nope, the waitress is wearing that self-satisfied dominatrix smile.

Wow she really gets off on power. Reminds me of a girl I knew at university. Why is it always the short ones?

Whatever, she's moved on, back to work, and I am really not going to pack up and spend a bunch more time trying to find another cafe today.

We settle into this sort of unspoken routine.

I type away, and every once in a while she comes by to "check on me" with her whip thing.

(Yes, BDSM people, I know a cat-o'-nine-tails isn't a whip, whatever).

Then some guys come in, looks like some Polish tourists.

She pulls one out of the group, has him take off his shirt and bend over a chair.

That's gotta hurt, but the way his friends are egging him on he's gotta take it like a man and wince out his "thank you ma'am may I have another"-s until she's finished the count.

Some other guys are more adventurous.

Two of them get blindfolded and tied to chairs while two waitresses rub the (shirtless guys') nipples with ice from the bar. And then out come the burning candles with dripping hot wax...

In a strange reversal of the Slavic tradition of terrible customer service -- or maybe this is just taking it to its logical conclusion -- they don't forget about me at all in the couple of hours it takes to finish my stuff.

The waitress even starts to get more enthusiastic or perhaps frustrated that she hasn't made "the guy typing away at his laptop in the middle of a BDSM cafe" flinch -- and I have to conclude that there's nothing like the occasional beating to improve productivity.