 
 _____________________

GONE 2 €UROPE...

...£EAVE A ME$$AGE

___________________________________________

WRITTEN

BY

BRANDON

SINCLAIR

Goldstein Publishing Group
Gone to Europe, Leave a Message

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is

purely coincidental. The wording of this disclaimer

differs from jurisdiction, and from country to

country, as does its legal effectiveness.

Copyright© 2011 by Goldstein Publishing Group, llc

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be

reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any

means without written permission from the author.

ISBN (978-0-615-48495-2)

2
 Acknowledgments

First, I would like to thank God, in which all

things are made possible. Next, I have to

thank my mom and dad for their unwavering

love and respect.

I would also like to thank my

grandparents, Jessie and Bernadine, for their

love and guidance, of which I will always be

grateful for. Additionally, I would like to

acknowledge my publishers for taking a

chance on me as well as for their patience. I

am so very appreciative.

Furthermore, I owe a great deal of

gratitude to Dean Fox, Brahn Jenkins,

Meagan Sweeny and Noelle Harper for their

expertise and technical assistance. And

certainly a very special shout out goes to the

Howell family for their constant love and

support.

Last but surely not least, I must

acknowledge my alma mater, North

Carolina Agriculture and Technical State

University for the invaluable life lessons it

taught me in which I could not function

without. (AGGIE PRIDE!!!)

3
  This book is dedicated to Linda

McKinnon, Norman "Billy Red" Whitaker,

and Aaron "And1" Smiley.

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy

cometh early in the morning." —Pslam 30:5

5
 Chapter 1

"Mel!...Hey Mel! Wake up!

"Huh?"

"Dude, Wake Up!"

"I'm up, man!"

"Did you feed the dogs yet?"

Like really, how could I have fed the dogs if

I'm just waking up? I never feed the dogs

and go back to sleep. To be in his trimester

of med school, my brother asks the dumbest

questions. He was just getting off of his

second job at the soda plant.

"You need to hurry up and get dressed if

you want a ride to the subway" he said

before walking back to his room.

"What time is it?" I asked.

I looked at my half-broken alarm clock and

saw it was almost 7:30. I had to be at work

in an hour and my train took at least 35

minutes to get there. I hopped up and took a

7
three minute shower, totally skipped ironing

my clothes and grabbed my laptop. As I

walked in to the living room I could hear the

dogs whining. I put my laptop down and

went to get their food out of the laundry

room.

One cupful each for badass #1 and

badass #2! Of course that wasn't their real

names, but there was no greater description.

All they ever did was eat and tear shit up. I

mean what the hell is a Labradoodle

anyway? Some sap out there thought it'd be

cute to mate their Labrador Retriever with a

Poodle, only to create the most annoying

dog on Earth. Why would I speak so harsh

about my dogs? That's just it, they weren't

my dogs. Although one would assume so

seeing that I was the only one that looked

after them. They were my brother's fiancés'

dogs. My brother spoils that chick rotten.

She's probably the reason why he works so

many damn jobs. He got them for her

because she just "haddd to have them". Her

apartment doesn't allow her to have any pets

so Jeff, my brother, being the shmuck that

he is, told her it would be okay for them to

stay here.

He was only two years older than

me; people that know us say that I was born

8
with the looks and he was given the brains. I

suppose I got the short end of that stick. I

mean who needs looks when you're about to

be an M.D.

Jeff met his fiancé at a Sorority

probate two years ago. I have no idea what

she does for a living but I do know that she

was hardly ever here to take care of these

damn puppies, and neither was he. There'd

been plenty of afternoons in which I came

home to an apartment heavily scented with

piss. Fortunately for me, I was moving out

at the end of the month so that the love birds

can have a hearth of their own before

jumping the broom.

Badass 1 and 2 both scarped down

all of their food without looking up or even

taking a breath. The girl dog (Badass #1)

came over to me and looked me up and

down and started to bark.

"I don't have time for this. I'm going to be

late for work" I said hovering over her.

Her small puppy bark turned into whining,

which triggered the boy dog's (Badass #2)

whining; which absolutely drove me nuts! I

grabbed my jacket, "fine let's go and make

it quick."

9
I led them outside, and to my surprise the

neighborhood kids were just now getting on

to the school bus. I suppose everyone was

running a little behind this morning. After

several minutes of sniffing trees and licking

dirt they finally used it. I hurried them back

inside and directed them to their crates. The

boy dog trotted in to his crate to play with

his bone. The girl dog then sat down in front

of me and stared again.

"What is it now?"

She leaped up and bit me on the hand with

her sharp puppy teeth, then walked back to

her crate as to say next time don't take so

long. Damn she's rude. One of these days I

was going to call the humane society on my

brother, but for now I needed a ride to the

metro. I ran in to his room to find him

sleeping on the floor with his shoes still on.

"Hey Jeff, Wake Up! Let me get a ride to

the metro station.

He turned over and in his sleepy tone said

"did you feed the dogs?"

"Yes mannn, now let me get a ride. I can't

be late."

I arrived to the metro station noticing

everyone running to catch the 8:00 train. As

I walked towards the door the old man

passing out newspapers told me to hurry

10
because the train was leaving in two

minutes. I ran down the escalator but just

remembered that I needed to add more

money to my smart trip card. I ran up to the

machine, scanned my card and entered a

five. I then said excuse me as I ran pass an

old lady carrying a big bright yellow

shoulder bag. I scanned my card to pass the

turn tolls and ran up the steps to get to the

train. The doors were closing as soon as I

got to the train. I stuck one arm in the train

car just as the doors closed. To my surprise

they shut and clasped on to my arm—which

they're not supposed to do. I quickly pried

my arm out and stood back from the rail.

Luckily the doors opened back up allowing

me to enter.

At a seat near the back of the train

car, I sat and took a deep breath. All I could

do was pray that the day got better. As I

looked down I saw a big bright yellow

shoulder bag next to a woman. It was the

same old woman that I ran pass just a

minute ago. She was sitting back in her

chair sleeping. How peculiar. Looking at her

bag reminded me that I forgot my own

laptop bag. Frustrated, I thought to myself if

it wasn't for Badass 1 and 2, I wouldn't

11
have to go through this shit every day. Ten

feet beyond the platform out into the tunnel

and the trained stalled.

"Oh Lord, please get this train moving"

said an old man sitting behind me—which is

exactly what I was thinking. After about five

minutes it began to move again. The NYC

transit system can be so unreliable at times.

I put my head phones on and

cranked up my iPod. I closed my eyes but

not all the way. This was in fear of falling

asleep and missing my stop like I did last

week.

12
 Chapter 2

train was ahead of schedule

that day. It only took twenty five minutes to

get to the city. I hurried up the street

towards my job; I had nine minutes to walk

four blocks.

"Awesome, plenty of time to make it," I

assured myself.

I walked so fast that there was double the

cold smoke from the breaths I took. Finally,

I got to my building and upon entering the

doors one of the security guards stopped me.

It was Mrs. Rosa, an eccentric but nice,

older dame that always spoke to everyone

that entered the building.

"Son, you're about to be late! Ooh and

you're breathing so hard. Have you been

running in that cold air out there? You gon'

get walking pneumonia."

"Yes...I'm running late" I responded

trying to walk around her.

The

13
"Hey look... I've been listening to that cd

you made me and I love it...It's so soulful."

Her speech seemed to accelerate by the

second. I didn't want to be rude to her

because she was probably the nicest person

in the entire building, but I had to do

something in order to make it in on time.

I smiled and quickly responded "I'm glad

you like it. I like it too; as a matter of fact

I'm going make you another one right now,

I gotta run. See ya later. Have a good day."

I caught the elevator doors opening

just as I approached. When I got in I glanced

at my watch and saw that I had a minute

left. Damn this elevator! It was stopping on

every floor on the way up to mine. Finally,

the doors opened and I gave a quick hello

nod to the receptionist as I walked straight

to my desk. I looked over and luckily my

supervisor wasn't there yet. Thank God. I

sat down and caught my breath as I logged

into my computer.

"MEL! IS THAT BATCH READY

YET?!!" Ms. Schmidt screamed from across

the aisle. "I have to post some stuff before

noon. I need all of those docs on your desk

taken care of before lunch! Can you do

that?!"

"Sure thing Ms. Schmidt", I responded.

14
"Oh, and these too."

She strolled over to my desk and dropped a

huge stack of papers on top of it, causing the

previous pile to now resemble a jenga tower.

I was no stranger to hard work but this was

just plain ridiculous. How the hell was I

supposed to get this done before noon?

"I have a meeting with Peterson so mind

the phone calls too" she added.

Staring at the towering stack of documents

that stood before me, I refused to let the fact

that my four foot cubicle was starting to

make me claustrophobic hinder me. I

refused to let the fact that my computer ran

slower than a 1988 Apple computer, deter

me. I refused to let the fact that my boss's

cubicle was right behind mine, pressure me.

I had to get it done, and I was going to get it

done...before noon!

I reached in to my desk drawer and

pulled out a stick of gum, although I would

have preferred cigarette instead. One by one

I took every document from the pile and

processed them. When my desk phone rang,

I sent the calls to voicemail. All morning I

worked without so much as inching away

from my desk; not even to take a bathroom

break.

15
Halfway through the pile my fingers

began to cramp from rigorous typing. I

worked through the pain. Finally, I was

down to the last few. I made sure to save the

batch just as a precaution. Not too soon after

that, with three docs to go, the system

locked me out—total shutdown. I looked

about the room and everyone else's

computer was working fine.

"She's coming back" I heard my co-

worker Sharon whisper from across the

room. At that point the only thing I could do

was send the reports without including the

three remaining documents. Of course I'd

catch hell about it later.

Ms. Schmidt walked in with a look

of frustration on her face. Peterson, her boss,

was an asshole but in a polite kind of way.

(Kind of like the boss in that one movie,

Office Space) He must have chewed her out

and now, here she came to take it out on

everybody else.

"Mel! Why didn't you answer your phone

I've been calling you. Where's that batch?

Did you finish it?!"

"Yes Ms. Schmidt I exported it to the

database, I answered.

I looked over to see Sharon and Ellen

giggling at their desks. Fourteen data entry

16
clerks in our department, and she rarely

gave anyone else a hard time. Perhaps being

the only black person on our team granted

me that privilege. If it weren't for the temp,

Saleem from Mumbai, I would swear she

had some sort of grudge against minorities.

Ms. Schmidt was the most fucked up

boss anyone could have. Egotistical,

verbally abusive, and childish, she was the

typical adult bully. I'm no psychologist but

it was well apparent that she suffered from

repressed feelings of being teased for being

overweight much of her life. She had gotten

lap band surgery and a breast reduction

around this time last year. It was a good

thing she was starting to gain some of her

weight back; with a head of that capacity,

her body was disproportioned to the point

where she resembled a realistic bobble head

doll. Her voice was irritating to say the least,

and her hygiene was morbid. She smelled as

if she'd gone for a swim in the East Harbor

along with the application of cheap perfume.

Secretly, everyone called her Ms. Shit

behind her back because her breath was the

equivalent of a city landfill, or better yet

New Jersey's drinking water.

17
It was twelve o'clock, aka break

time. I went to get a drink of water and to

the restroom. My hands ached something

terrible from typing. I went to wash them

and found myself gazing in to the mirror

with the three remaining docs on my

mind......

Returning to my desk all I could hear was

someone shouting my name.

There was absolutely no surprise as to

whom it was.

"Mel! Where have you been?"

"I went to the restroom."

"There are three docs missing from this

report and THOSE ARE THE THREE I

NEED TO SUBMIT TO CORPORATE

FOR REVIEW, she screamed."

I thought to myself, then why the hell did

she put them at the bottom of the stack.

"I got locked out of the system as I was

putting them in" I responded.

"Don't give me excuses. I need those

entered right now!"

"Yes Ma'am."

I took my seat and tried my best to log back

in, but nothing was working. I could hear

her on the phone shouting at someone from

IT. Her voice was starting to annoy me so I

put my headphones on and turned up the

18
volume to block it out. Finally, the system

let me back in. I entered the last three docs

and began resending the report. Before I

could finish she tapped me on my shoulder

and pulled my earphone out.

"Hey dummy...I've been calling you for

the past five minutes! I need you to enter

these docs that just came through the fax!"

She dropped a stack of damn near a hundred

papers on my desk and walked back to her

desk talking shit. I stared at this stack for

about 30 seconds, which simultaneously

was the time it took my blood to reach a

temperature twice that of boiling point. All

thoughts of a promotion in the near future

escaped my mind. I know this fat bitch

didn't just call me a dummy!

My blood temperature began to rise 3 times

beyond boiling point, in fact, to the point

where I was about to hulk out of my shirt.

Enough was enough. I pushed away from

my desk so hard that my chair hit the back

part of my cubicle knocking the plant from

her shelf over on to her desk. I grabbed the

stack of documents as I got up and turned to

face her and her "delayed" reaction of

shock.

19
"TO HELL WITH THESE FUCKING

DOCUMENTS...YOU DO IT!!!" I shouted.

I held the stack square in both hands and

punted them across the hall as if I was field

goal kicker, Jason Elam.

"If you say one more word to me, I swear

I'm going to staple your fucking mouth

shut!"

I grabbed my jacket and my work

keys off of my desk and knocked the papers

off her desk as I passed. [Yea, it was a little

immature but it was the next best thing to

punching someone.] I headed straight to

Peterson's office. I could see that he was on

the telephone so I quietly entered and

slammed dunked his 5 foot toy basketball

goal, managing to purposely bend the rim.

He looked up at me in bewilderment as I

smiled while giving him the finger, and

quietly exiting. I made sure to close the door

behind me. Suddenly, I was tackled by the

other security guards, and then tossed out of

the building like Jazzy Jeff from Fresh

Prince of Bel-Air.....

Interrupted by a flush from the next stall, I

awoke from my temporary delusional state

of liberation. I rarely had the time to day

20
dream but when I did this one was always

my favorite, minus the getting tackled and

thrown out by security part. For some odd

reason I could never make a smooth exit in

that dream.

When I returned to my desk (for real

this time) I held my head in sorrow and

began to think about what was keeping me

at this Hell hole. This place didn't suit me at

all. It was as if I were a slave that had been

set free and decided to stay, out of some

unknown fear. But then again, there was

also the fear of letting my mother down.

Remembering her face when I got the job,

she was so relieved of not having to share

the burden of helping me pay back my

student loan.

As strong willed as I thought myself to be,

I couldn't quit. After all, there were some

pros. Over three years of work experience,

okay health insurance, and not to mention I

had saved over ten percent of the purchase

price for a down payment on a condo in

Brooklyn.

Although, how I wound up in a data

entry job is still a wonder to me. Four years

prior, I'd graduated from Penn State with a

dual degree in English and World History.

21
Currently, I chose to blame it on the effects

of a screwed up economy rather than lack of

ambition on my part.

Although I couldn't call my job a

desirable career, I'd have to be a fool to quit

now. I considered the advice my brother

gave me a week ago: "Sometimes you have

to make the sacrifice now in order to be

where you want to be later in life".

But with all of this stress would there even

be a later? And would it really be worth it?

Since working here I had developed a

smoking addiction, bladder complications,

and let's not forget about the shingles I

contracted from stress following last year's

close. What was next, a stomach ulcer? Or

even worse, going bald? I hated this place.

At the moment I would rather take Spike

Lee's advice from the early 80's and burn it

down.

In the middle of my self-pity, I could hear

Ms. Schmidt tromping down the hallway

rattling the cubicles as she walked.

"MEL!!! This batch is incomplete! Do you

not have the sense to complete 'the'

simplest task!?"

"Ms. Schmidt I tried to complete it but the

system crashed."

22
"Well the minute...No the second, that it's

back up and running I want this report

completed!" she said crotched over and

shouting at the side of my face.

"I'm going to lunch and there'd better be a

completed report on my desk when I get

back."

"Yes Ms. Shit...I mean Ms. Schmidt."

She gave me a stern look and then walked

away.

This should qualify as harassment.

Her breath smelled like soiled baby diapers.

No one should have to endure that kind of

persecution. I could only imagine that this

and her foul attitude were the biggest

contributors to her not having a man; or a

woman in any case.

Sharon and Ellen giggled from

across the room. They often stated how

much they hated this job, but seeing how

amused they were I really couldn't tell.

I needed a cigarette...like now.

I took the stairs up to the outside

terrace for a quick smoke. Perhaps the cold

air would do me some good. My usual

melodramatic day dream of me quitting was

constantly interrupted with visions of the

ridicule that had just taken place. Maybe one

23
day the Lord will give me the courage to

quit or perhaps a sign that it's time to move

on.

I wrapped up my smoke break and

headed back feeling a little better than

before. Suddenly, I felt a wave of depression

sweep over me the closer I approached my

desk. I then took a few steps back and the

depression started to disappear. Slowly I

walked forward again, and again I felt the

presence of sadness. Finally, a voice in my

head said "keep going".

Assuming that this was my conscious, I

decided to listen to it and continued to walk.

I noticed an instant change in my mood. I

proceeded to the elevators; continued from

the elevators to the bottom floor, and then

towards the exit.

I saw Mrs. Rosa ahead holding her walkie

talkie as I was leaving.

Just then. "OH FUCK!"...Not now. Really?

Ms. Schmidt had just walked through the

revolving door holding a bucket of chicken

in one hand and her hand bag in the other.

"That batch report better be complete" she

chimed across the lobby in a polite but

obnoxious tone.

24
"Um...yes they are" I hesitated. "I'll be

right back."

As Ms. Schmidt passed, Mrs. Rosa called

me over.

"Is that your boss?" she asked.

"Yes."

"She's a bitch" she whispered.

"You have no idea" I responded.

She smiled and said, "Have a good day

baby."

I smiled back and strutted outside. As I

approached Radio City Music Hall, two

blocks down, I couldn't believe what I had

just done. I just walked out on the job.

Although I could just turn around and go

back, I made a conscious decision not to in

spite of uncertainty. Was I having a quarter-

life crisis? Or was I having a mental

breakdown? Irrational was it? Probably so

but whatever it was, it felt pretty good.

Walking down the street seeing everyone

having lunch, reminded me that I hadn't

eaten. I stopped at a street vendor and got a

hot dog. After paying for it I noticed that I

was low on cash. Immediately I realized it

was Thursday (payday). I headed up the

street to the bank to check on my direct

deposit.

25
I withdrew a hundred dollars

because I imagined that I'd be doing a lot of

drinking when this so called wave of

liberation wears off and the depression of

being jobless in a recession sinks in. Still I

felt I deserved to treat myself, to some

degree, especially after gathering the

courage to do what I did. But on the

contrary, I couldn't help but feel as if I were

ditching school for the first time and was

bound to suffer the consequences later.

I passed by a new bar that had just opened

up earlier this week. Many of my co-

workers that had gone there for happy hour

raved and carried on about the how great

their cocktails were. The patio was uniquely

decorated with adjustable glass tables and

chairs made of wicker and cast iron. From

the outside I observed the low hanging

chandeliers although it remained dim

throughout. Calm jazz music cascaded from

the opened windows—making the place

even more inviting. I debated whether or not

to enter—glancing at my watch as if I had

some place to be.

Suddenly, a hostess wearing a white

blouse and black trousers approached me.

She appeared to be of Latino ethnicity and

26
she spoke with a heavy yet endearing

accent. Her spew was the epitome of sweet

talk. In a moment's time, I found myself

sitting at the bar with a pint of pale ale.

While pretending to watch the muted

CNN program on television, I went over

different scenarios in which to tell my

family and friends that I quit my job.

Although undecided, I kept coming back to

the idea of changing my work profile on

Facebook to unemployed.

I ordered a shot of scotch whiskey.

"What's the occasion?" the bartender

asked.

"I just quit my job." I responded.

"Ouch, tough break fella. In that case I'll

have one too."

He introduced himself as Andre. He

was an older brother Jersey that sported a

short afro with sideburns. Andre was a beer

connoisseur, or something to the likes of it.

We sampled the newest lager on tap that

was from Germany.

"There's nothing like the taste of a stout

lager. Germany has some of the best tasting

beer in the world" said Andre.

"I agree."

"Have you been there?" he asked.

27
"Germany?... Nah"

"Ah man, you absolutely have to make a

trip there at least once. I was stationed there

back in the 90's and enjoyed every bit of it,

from the beer to the food...and I especially

miss the women, if you know what I mean."

"It really sounds like a lot of fun."

"It is...I'm not sure about how much it

cost to get over there now, but it's most

definitely worth visiting."

"Well I suppose," I said looking down into

my empty glass, debating whether or not to

have another.

"Look fella, not having a job is not the end

of the world. Don't sweat it too much. Just

know that as long as you abide by the LLC

you're doin' alright."

"Yea...wait...huh? LLC? Limited

Liability Company?"

"No. Listen young man, in time you'll

come to find out that life is all about the

LLC. That is living, laughing, and crying"

he said counting them out on his fingers. "If

there's a time when you're not experiencing

any of these three, you might wanna check

your pulse."

"Oh okay, well I hope more so the first

two than the last." I replied.

28
I'm not sure if I understood what

Andre meant by the whole LLC motto, but

there was something assuring in the way he

said it so I went with it.

Shortly after I paid my tab, I walked

to the metro station and took my time

getting on it. It felt good not to have to rush.

My stop was last on the route so I had a lot

of time to think about my future, but I

elected not to. I got off at my stop and rather

than walking home like I normally do, I

took a cab.

29
 Chapter 3

relief I felt was short lived.

Upon checking the time on my cell, I

discovered a text from my girlfriend Lisa.

She was reminding me of our dinner

reservations at Zanthara.

Ordinarily we ate out, and especially on

Fridays, but never made reservations; unless

of course it was a special occasion, but

which one? It wasn't her birthday.

Definitely wasn't mine. No gift-giving

holidays at the beginning of November.

Think, think, think... I pressured myself. It

has to be our anniversary, right? But then

again there's no way I would remember that.

Regardless it has to be something important.

I thought it to be necessary to bring a gift

just in case. But no ordinary gift would do if

I were to bring about the bad news of me

quitting my job.

The time now was four o'clock. Seeing that

the mall was 20 minutes away in the

31

The
opposite direction of the restaurant, there

was no way to achieve this during rush hour.

I had to think of something, and quickly. I

began playing the guessing game:

Ooh tickets to a Broadway show!

What the hell am I thinking? She hates

musicals and so do I.

Well maybe a concert! Nah still wasn't big

enough...

Ten minutes later, my brain was exhausted

from all of the guessing; and I hadn't even

gotten dressed yet. Trying to calm things, I

stepped out on to the balcony and lit a

cigarette. With all of this stress I was in dire

need of a vacation.

Hold on, that's it! A vacation! Hell yea!

Why didn't I think of that sooner?! But

where would we go? She'd been almost

everywhere within the western hemisphere.

Wherever it was, it had to be someplace new

and exciting, and clean. Lisa was slightly

mysophobic.

Suddenly, I recalled Andre the

bartender's suggestion to visit Germany.

Although I wasn't so sure if it was a place to

plan a couple's vacation, I remember Lisa

telling me her parents took a tour of the

32
castles in Germany when she was in college.

As well as how upset she was that she

couldn't go due to her having a serious case

of mono.

I decided to scour the junk mail on

my laptop for offers and discounts on travel.

I came across a package deal to southern

Germany for less than seven hundred

dollars. Before proceeding, I skimmed a

page on things to do in southern Germany.

According to the page they were

known for their automobile makers, beer

factories, museums, castles, festivals, as

well as shopping malls. The trip featured

was for one week in Stuttgart, Germany and

included a five night stay at an above

average hotel. I had to admit, it sounded like

a very attractive deal. For starters, I took a

German language course in college and

loved German beer; and in addition, Lisa

was obsessed with European fashion. A

match made in heaven.

Besides if she didn't want to go I could

always cancel it. [Let's face it, it's the

gesture that counts, right.] I booked the trip

for the first Friday of December, exactly 1

month away. I then got dressed and headed

out.

33
Zanthara was a very trendy

restaurant that specialized in Scandinavian

food, though in the two times we've been

here we've only tried the salad. Lisa brought

me here on our second date. Apparently, I

screwed up by taking her to Captain Ray's

Seafood Dock on our first date where she

hurled at the sight of crawfish in her salad.

From that point on, I was no longer allowed

to pick the restaurant.

Upon entering the restaurant I

received a text saying that she was pulling

up to the spot. For once, I had arrived before

she did.

When I first met Lisa she was

interning at the C. L. Gates Convention

Corporation. The following year she was

hired there as a Sales Associate. Two

months later she was promoted to manager,

and now receives quarterly bonuses three

times my pay check. I mean she was the

perfect sales person; a twenty-four year old

petite Jewish girl from Hartford Connecticut

and a recent graduate of Princeton

University. Her body was very slim and she

quite frequently used her charm to get

whatever she wanted. I sometimes wonder

how it is that I'm even with her. She's

allergic to cats and dogs so naturally she

34
never came to my place, and I'd only been

to hers twice. The only time we really saw

each other was out in public or at a hotel.

My brother swears out she's cheating on

me; yet on the contrary, his relationship was

the exact same but less glamorous. [If that

even makes any sense]

On several occasions I can recall

Lisa bragging about how jealous her

colleagues get when she shows up with me

at networking events. Was I trophy

boyfriend? In the middle of my thought she

walked in.

"Mel, why haven't you gotten our table?

Is there a problem?" She asked.

"No, no problem, I just figured I'd wait

for you so that you wouldn't have to search

for the table."

"Don't be silly I wouldn't have to search, I

made the reservation." She then walked pass

me and gestured to the hostess. "Excuse

me...I have a reservation for two under Lisa

Silver."

It was rare that she greeted me with a hug or

a kiss, but no greeting at all? No hi, hello, or

anything. That's just rude. She walked at a

35
very quick paste as if she was in a hurry to

sit and eat. I figured, like me, she'd had a

rough day. I pulled her chair out for her as

she took off her trench coat. She

immediately opened the menu before I could

sit. The server walked over with a basket of

fresh bread. Lisa hated bread.

"Oh no, we won't have this. You can take

that away but before you leave we would

like to have two mineral waters and two

Caesar Salads no cheese and non-fat Caesar

dressing please." After obliging, the waiter

walked away slightly shocked.

"So how was your day?" I asked.

"It was pretty average; I had to attend the

Colonial Wine Mixer this afternoon and I

ended up winning the company a multi-

million dollar account. Later this evening, I

have to accept the Carnegie sales person of

the year award."

"Wow, that's fantastic! Are you excited?"

"Thrilled" she said in an un-thrilling tone.

"So this is a celebration dinner, right?"

"What? Of course not, we make

reservations here all the time [by all the time

she meant once a year]. I wouldn't celebrate

anything here."

36
"So you just wanted to get a bite to eat

before going to the award ceremony?" I

asked.

"Uh yeah, I didn't have time to eat lunch

and you know how dreadful the food is at

these types of events. Enough about me how

was your day?" she asked while reading her

blackberry.

Before I could answer the server showed up

with our food. It was probably a good idea

to break the news to her on a full stomach

anyway.

Throughout dinner she constantly

spoke to and texted her clients, which gave

me a lot of time to admire the historic

looking drapes in the restaurant. They had to

have been over twenty feet tall. How often

could you even clean something that

enormous?

I imagined the amount of dust that would

fall if someone were to shake 'em.

"MEL!" She startled me. "Are you coming

or not?"

"Where?"

"With me to the ceremony... I need to

know now so that I can have Cynthia

37
reserve you a ticket", she said while cradling

her cell up to her ear.

"Ummm...yeah?

"Cynthia, please reserve an extra ticket for

me. Thanks"—finally hanging up the phone.

"So babe, I didn't tell you about my day" I

said.

"Please don't call me that. I hate when you

call me that" she replied.

"Okay, 'Lisa' can I tell you about my

day?"

"Yea sure what happened?"

"I quit."

"Quit what?"

"My job!" I responded excitedly.

"Well great it's about time. That place was

a complete waste of time. So where are you

working now?"

"Nowhere, I just quit today."

"What? You don't have another job lined

up? You're unemployed?"

"Well yea, only for right now."

"Hold on...I understand that it was a shitty

job, but who quits their shitty job before

finding a better one? Have you lost your

mind?

"Well..."

"No really, who does that?!"

38
"Well of course I'm going to get a new

one."

"Look Mel, this country is in a recession.

It takes some serious time and planning to

get a good job. And frankly, I don't have

that kind of time to wait for you to get a

job!"

"Huh, what do you mean you don't have

time to wait? Hold on...are you breaking up

with me?"

"Listen Mel, you know the type of work

that I do, and how important my image is. I

can't very well go around with an

unemployed boyfriend on my arm in front

of my clients."

"What the hell? Oh, okay so I am a trophy

boyfriend?"

She began putting her trench coat on as she

got up from the table with a look of pity on

her face. I was outraged at the fact that she

didn't answer the question. She then opened

her purse and left ten dollars on the table.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said.

I couldn't believe what'd just happened.

Talk about kicking a man when he's down.

The server, right on cue, then dropped off a

sixty-one dollar tab and two mints. There

goes my cab fare.

39
To top off a shitty evening it began

to rain, drenching me as I moped to the

subway stop. On the train ride home I

started to rethink things. Maybe Lisa was

right. Perhaps I had lost my mind. I was

twenty-seven years old with no sense of

direction for my life. I'd brought this on

myself.

And as for the basis of our

relationship, I suppose that deep down I was

hoping that in some way her brilliance

would rub off on me; besides it wasn't too

bad being a trophy boyfriend.

40
 Chapter 4

The next morning I woke up to the

most irritating bark from badass #1 and the

most obnoxious whine from badass #2.

Although I'm against animal cruelty, I

wouldn't mind having one of those shock

collars right about now.

I rolled over to check my phone.

Surprisingly there were no missed calls from

work, but I did have a new voicemail from

my mom. She left a message to remind me

to get fitted for my tux tomorrow. My mom

was the self-appointed planner for Jeff's

wedding, which was to occur mid-summer

of next year.

I gave the dogs some slippers Jeff

had left in my room, to chew on so they'd

shut up. On the table I observed a note he'd

left. It said to leave my portion of the rent

on the counter and to take the dogs for a

walk.

41
Wow I was starting to like being jobless. It

gave me time to do the things that I never

wanted to do in the first place. At the

moment I was struggling to figure out why I

felt like shit.

Hmm...I didn't drink much last night, and

from the looks of it I got at least 10 hours of

sleep. Oh yea, Lisa broke up with me. Nah,

that wasn't it either.

After several minutes of scratching my

head, it dawned on me that I purchased

those plane tickets yesterday. I searched

about the room for the flight details in order

to cancel it.

Upon viewing the printed out

itinerary, I discovered that I'd booked the

wrong date. It was for this Friday—as in

today. The flight was set to leave this

evening. I scrambled to find my cell phone

in order to cancel them before it was too

late. I dialed the number and spoke with a

sales rep., who must have been having a

rough day because he was being a real prick

over the phone. Because I didn't get flight

insurance he was only able to refund me for

one of the tickets. The hotel offer included

in the trip was completely non-refundable.

[That's what I get for buying on impulse]

42
I stepped out on the balcony to smoke a

cigarette. The neighborhood was calm and

quiet (well at least for New York anyway).

After heavily weighing the pros and cons of

actually going on this trip, I came to the

conclusion that I needed to get away from

NYC as soon as possible. My life was

depressing. After all, I had absolutely

nothing to do; it wasn't like I had a job to go

to. Moreover, it was a nice day for flying.

Without further discussing it with myself, I

packed my luggage with the necessities and

left my rent check on the counter on my way

out.

Upon arriving at JFK via train, I

checked my bags in and picked up my

boarding pass. I then stopped at one of the

stores and bought a magazine, a pack of

small cigars, chewing gum and some pills to

help me sleep. The flight time on the ticket,

was a horrifying 8 hours, which is way too

long to be up in the air. I boarded the plane

but not before praying. As the plane began

to ease on to the runway and prepare for

takeoff, I started thinking to myself that

maybe this was a bad idea. But either way

there was no turning back now.

43
I read my magazine for much of the

first hour until we started to experience

turbulence. At this point I reached in my bag

and pulled out a few sleeping pills. Clearly

I'd underestimated the effectiveness of those

pills because the next thing I remember is

the pilot saying that we have arrived at

London Heathrow Airport. The time was

now 8:27 am.

I woke up having to piss so badly.

As soon as we exited the plane, I spotted a

young American teenage girl speaking to a

flight attendant about her connecting flight.

It was to Milan, Italy and it was set to board

in ten minutes. The flight attendant told her

to tell the shuttle operators so they could

rush her along. We boarded the shuttle

outside the plane and headed to arrivals. I

could hear the young girl's conversation

with the shuttle operator. She showed him

her connecting ticket. He then replied to her

in a smug English accent "there's no way

you're going to make that." The eager and

hopeful look she once had on her face was

now unenthusiastic and hopeless as she

opened her cell phone and started to call her

parents.

Suddenly a Scottish speaking

gentleman standing next to us, that smelled

44
horrific, asked to see her ticket. He then said

"don't worry they don't know what they're

talking about, you're going to make it. I've

had a ten minute connect time here before

and I made it."

She looked up with a few grams of

hope left and in a child-like voice said

"really I can make it?"

He responded, "Of course you are, just show

the operators at the security terminals your

ticket."

The shuttle finally docked at the terminal.

As the girl skipped away with her ticket in

hand, I couldn't help but think of Charlie

and the Chocolate Factory. A tear almost

came to my eye. But with all of this talk

about connecting flights I had forgot to take

a look at mine. I reached into my coat

pocket to take a look. I had 30 minutes to

get to my gate.

I paid a quick visit to the restroom

upon getting to arrivals. Afterwards, I

ventured towards my gate. The airport was

fucking enormous! I walked the moving

sidewalks with haste in an effort to prepare

for the unexpected. I passed the bottle check

point and started up the crowded staircase.

When I glanced over I saw the young girl

45
skipping up the deserted escalator next to

me. She had a huge grin on her face and

yelled "I'm going to make it! I'm going to

make it!" [Before it was cute, now it was

getting to be obnoxious]

Ten minutes later, I made it to the

peak of the stairs and found myself in the

longest security check point line ever. It was

set up like a maze and there was no sign of

progressing. I felt as if I were waiting to ride

the Avalanche coaster at Adventure Land.

Next to this line I spotted an empty no wait

line for preferred customers. My flight was

now boarding and set to leave within twelve

minutes.

Starting at the bottom of the

escalator was a group of guys carrying

instrument cases. They wore black p coats

like mine, but with the collar turned up. I

looked down at my ticket and had an

epiphany. I turned up my collar and walked

over to the guy carrying the guitar case and

asked him a few questions about his band;

this quickly turned into a conversation as we

walked. When we got to the beginning of

the no wait line we flashed our tickets to the

guard and kept walking. Ironically, we were

boarding the same flight to Stuttgart,

Germany.

46
The plane was definitely a lot

smaller than the one I boarded in the states.

Luckily it was a three hour flight.

Yes, an aisle seat!

As I approached my seat, I spoke to the

gentleman sitting near the window. He was

reading some sort of soldier's manual. He

was dressed in U.S. Army fatigues and

resembled an older Jean Claude Vandamme

with a buzz cut. He introduced himself as

Phil and then went back to reading his smart

book.

The middle seat between us was

vacant, and I hoped it stayed that way. After

putting away my carry on, I looked up and

saw a tall and skinny blonde-haired girl

board the plane while talking on her cell

phone. She was walking towards me. With

the majority of the plane already full, I

could only assume she was going to sit in

my row, and she did. She smiled at me with

a sigh of relief as she approached. I stepped

aside to let her in.

"Okay mom I'll call you when we

land"...she said as she hung up her cell

phone.

From her deep southern sounding accent I

could tell she was American and not British.

47
She introduced herself to me and Phil the

army guy as Sharnay from Indiana. As the

plane prepared for takeoff, I noticed her

clasp tightly on to the arm rest.

When the plane finished its ascent, I felt a

strong need to break the awkward silence.

"So Sharnay, why are you flying to

Germany?" I asked

"I'm going to visit my boyfriend. He's

German but he lives in the states now. He

had to go back home to fix some type of

machine. He's an engineer and since his job

is keeping him here for two months, he

thought it'd be a good idea if I fly out to

visit."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah...by the way I love your hat. When

I saw you I was telling my mom on the

phone that I was okay because I was sitting

beside a Yankees fan."

"Oh so you're a Yankees fan too?"

"Hells yeah! I got the actual Yankee

Stadium seats in my apartment. They were

hella expensive but I love 'em. What brings

you to Germany?" she asked.

"Uhhh going to see some friends" I

hesitated. (I mean who vacations in Europe

by themselves?)

48
"Ah sweet. Do we get free alcohol on this

flight? I don't like to fly so much. It's only

my second time. Heck, I've never even been

out of the country before today."

"I don't like to fly either. To answer your

question, I think we get a choice of a

complimentary beer or wine with our meal"

I replied.

"Good, I need something strong."

When the flight attendant came around we

ordered two small bottles of Jack and a beer

for Phil.

Sharnay told us the story of how she

graduated from college, got a waitressing

job, met her boyfriend and became a blues

and jazz singer. Although she was only a

year younger than me she was living an

interesting life to say the least. When I told

her about the type of work I was in,

ironically, she expressed how much she

envied me because I had a "real" job.

Candidly, I couldn't help but to envy her. I

missed having a part-time gig, getting shit-

faced with my friends, sleeping in late, and

doing it all over again the next day.

As we talked, the alcohol continued

to flow. Our first round had quickly turned

in to 2 cups of wine, 6 beers and 3 small

49
bottles of Jack. Sharnay and I debated with

Phil on why the New York Yankees were

America's team and why Boston blows. In

our inebriated state, we made several toasts

to the U.S. on a plane filled with a majority

of Europeans; at the time it made perfect

sense.

I took a glimpse at my watch, and

noticed that we were just an hour into the

flight.

I returned my attention to notice Sharnay's

hand rubbing my leg while she spoke with

Phil. As her hand inched closer up my thigh,

I heard my pants unzip before I could even

conceive what was going on. Anxiety met

excitement all at once spurring a familiar

sensation, yet not quite the one I was

expecting. All of the drinks I consumed

were beginning to work their way out. I

promptly called a time out for a bathroom

break. My quick steps down the aisle to the

back of the plane came to a screeching halt,

when I was met with two long separate lines

for the lavatory.

Several minutes later I returned to

my seat wondering what damage I had done

in upsetting the mood. To my surprise she

was slumped down in her chair unconscious.

Phil was also asleep, up against the window

50
side with his smart book tucked firmly in his

hand.

An hour passed and the plane had

begun its descent to land. Sharnay finally

woke from her long slumber. She looked up

and smiled, quieter than before and

seemingly a lot more sober now.

"Are we here already?" she asked.

"Yea we're about to land now", I

answered.

"Hey Mel, do you mind staying with me

for a while? I'm not so sure of where to go

or anything... and my boyfriend won't be

here to pick me up for an hour or so" she

said while stretching.

"Sure I don't mind. Although, I don't

know how much help I'll be. It's my first

time here too."

We exited the plane and walked

through customs. She insisted that we hold

hands to infer that we were together and

therefore wouldn't be separated. Customs

was a synch; a hell of a lot easier than when

I flew to Jamaica for Spring Break last year.

Hmm...perhaps it wasn't every day that a

black guy flew from the U.S. to Jamaica.

While waiting at the baggage claim,

I observed what looked like my bag on the

51
other side of the conveyer. For some odd

reason or another it was covered in blue

chalk. I dusted it off and walked back to

where Sharnay had been waiting.

She wasn't there. A few more planes had

arrived, so now the area was over-crowded

with passengers. Maybe she thought I'd left

and decided to leave too. Or perhaps she

was somewhere asking for assistance. I

searched all over, then debated whether to

leave or not. There was a glass partisan

separating the baggage claim from the rest

of the airport and she was nowhere in plain

sight on the other side of it. After, about 5

more minutes of looking through the crowd

for her, I decided to leave.

52
 Chapter 5

walked outside where several

cabs awaited. I hopped in the back of a

Volkswagen cab and told the cab driver to

take me to the Intercity Hotel. Luckily the

hotel wasn't too far from the airport because

it was freezing in his cab. There was no heat

yet he had a tricked out stereo system. I

thought to myself damn cab drivers are

cheap. I paid him 30 euro to ride for 6

minutes. So far, not much has changed from

being in the U.S.

We pulled up to a historic looking hotel just

up the street from a train station. The hotel

lobby was smaller than I expected but with

pleasing décor. I noticed that there didn't

seem to be any people around that were

even close to my age. Perhaps I should have

booked a stay at a hostel or a Holiday Inn.

Notably, the people at the front desk

were polite and spoke English. The room

was standard yet cozy considering the low

53

I
rate I booked it for. I looked at my iPhone

and noticed that it was going on 9 pm. Now

that I had arrived safely I updated my twitter

to inform people of my location, just as a

safety precaution. What to do next? It wasn't

like I knew anybody within a thousand

miles of here. I was going to be here for at

least a week. Perhaps it was time I make

some plans. I went down and grabbed a

bunch of tour information from the

concierge. The pamphlet on touring the beer

factory caught my eye. It should definitely

be worth the visit. What would I be doing if

I were back home? Hmm...I'd probably be

kicking back with a beer, eating nachos and

watching football games. But then again that

would defeat the purpose of coming here in

the first place. Besides, there was no way

they'd be showing football here. I decided to

walk down to the bar just in case.

It was an old wooden tavern with

random pictures on the wall that represented

Deutschland. It was quite empty. There was

only one older couple chatting at the end of

the bar. I walked over to the counter and

ordered a jack and coke. The bartender was

an older guy that acted very feminine. I

could hardly understand a word he was

saying. He gave me a glass the size of a beer

54
mug for 8 euro. I was starting to like

Germany. I sat and watched soccer on TV

for a while; it wasn't long before I found

myself inebriated out of my mind. I had

finished the entire glass. Hardly able to keep

my eyes open, I managed to stammer back

up to my room. This, in addition to the

jetlag had really worn me out.

The next morning I woke up to not

only the sound of an airplane but a train as

well. All in all, I guess you get what you pay

for. Still, it wasn't too much of an

inconvenience because I wanted to get an

early start on touring. I got dressed to take

my first steps out into the city. I researched

the beer factory and got the walking

directions on my iPhone prior to leaving. As

I walked the cold and windy streets of

Stuttgart, I noticed how there were several

people walking in a hurry just like back

home. I arrived at the beer factory just in

time for the tour. The tour was pretty

interesting. They offered fourteen different

brands. The most popular brew was the

Pilsner, of which there were free samples to

go around.

55
Outside the beer factory I reached in

my pocket for a Black & Mild cigar and lit

it. It was rare that I smoked cigars but I'd

always heard that European cigarettes didn't

even come close to the ones in the U.S.

From afar I could see a group of

three younger white guys standing together.

Every so often they would look back at me

and then start chatting with each other. I got

the feeling that they were plotting

something. My paranoia kicked in and all I

could think was please don't let me have

shank one of these kids. Suddenly one

turned around and walked towards me. He

stopped to face me and uttered some

German very fast. The only word I

recognized was feuer, which meant fire in

English.

"What?" I answered out of habit.

"Oh you speak English. I was not sure if I

was saying the right words. My German is

not so good. May I borrow a light for my

cigarette?"

"Oh okay yea sure."--I gave him the

lighter. "So if German is not your language

where are you from?"

"I and my brothers come from Italy."

"Oh really," I took a step back.

"The good part...Rome" he quickly added.

56
"Oh."

"We are on break from the university. You

are Americano, no?"

"Yea I'm from New York."

"Oh, you're from New York City? –he

grinned while taking a puff of his cigarette.

New York, I have cousins there. It is a big

city."

"Yea it's pretty big, but so is Rome I've

heard."

"Yes of course. You know, my brothers

were looking at your cigar and thought

maybe you were smoking ganja.

"What?"

"Yes they like to smoke um...weed. You

know like Bob Marley."

"Yea I know", I responded with a WTF

look on my face. "Sorry, I don't have any

weed."

"Well, thank you my friend. By the way

my name is Nick."

"Good to meet ya', I'm Mel" – firmly

shaking his hand.

He went back to join his brothers. I thought

to myself...college, now those were the good

old days. Damn it! Why did I have to

graduate!? Oh yeah that's right to be the

corporate world's bitch. What a rip!

57
Nick came back over and asked me

if I knew where the nearest train station over

here was. I gave him the name of the street

across from my hotel, on which it was

located. Imagine that, I hadn't even been

here even 24 hours and already I was giving

directions. I was headed back there any way

so we all walked back down the hill towards

the station. He introduced me to his

brothers, Frank and Massimo. They wore a

lot of Prada and Gucci sport clothing. Like

all of Europe, it was like a fashion show. I

took a glance at the Gap shirt I had on and I

couldn't help but to feel a little bummy. As

we walked they began to talk about the

women they'd met at their hostel since

they'd been in Germany. Giving thought to

it, I hadn't met or even seen that many near

my hotel. They said they were headed to

Amsterdam.

"What part of Germany is that?" I asked

They told me it was in the country of

Holland, about two hours from here. All this

time I thought it was in Germany. A lot of

my friends talked about going there when I

was in college; if they'd said it was in

Germany I'm pretty sure I just took their

word for it. After all, that was the time I

58
went through my experimental pot smoking

phase.

The Italians were going to Amsterdam for a

day and returning tomorrow, and invited me

to come along. While thinking about what I

had planned, I looked around and noticed

the dark cloud-filled skies. It would most

certainly put a damper on things if it were to

rain.

I told Nick that I would join them so

I went up to my room and grabbed my

passport. I checked my Twitter and noticed

all the responses to my update. My cousin

tweeted that my mom was mad as hell that I

didn't call her. In all the excitement I had

forgotten. Hell, I also forgot to take the

puppies outside before I left. I'm pretty sure

the messages my brother left have

something to do with them pissing in the

crate. Oh well.

"Alle an Bord!"—"All aboard!"

When the train departed it felt as if I were

on a plane taking off down the runway.

They don't call it the bullet train for

nothing. I began to learn more about the

Italians. For example they were all one year

apart, Nick being the oldest, then Frank,

then Massimo. Their parents owned a few

59
furniture stores in Rome. In a twisted way

they kind of reminded me of the chipmunks.

Nick was average build, and appeared more

confident than the others, Frank was tall and

Massimo was short and chubby.

Somehow Frank and Massimo

managed to get back on the subject of

marijuana. For the next two hours I sat and

got educated on every type of weed there

was. Although, I was already familiar with

hydro, kush, haze, midgrade, and the broke

man's all-time favorite... Reggie. I was

convinced that they had to be majoring in

botany at their university. They explained to

me how to grow and cure it, small

contraptions on how to smoke it, eat it, ways

to hide it, and how to sell it. What they

couldn't explain in English, they drew

diagrams of. After the first half hour I

started to regret coming along for the ride.

Meanwhile, Nick chose to sleep for most of

the trip.

60
 Chapter 6

we arrived in Amsterdam.

I was starving; I hadn't eaten anything since

I had arrived in Germany. We stopped at a

café that advertised burgers and falafels on

the outside windows. It was 4 o'clock and

we were the only customers there. The place

had pictures of images from all over the

world hanging on the wall. Some of them

were of celebrities that had visited from

decades ago.

We sat down at a booth and right

away everybody started ordering. I was

craving a burger. I noticed that the Italians

were ordering weird stuff. Food I've never

heard of. I assumed it was Italian. I opened

the menu to find something to drink and to

my surprise everything was made with

weed! I observed how their faces lit up with

joy.

Finally,

61
Nick looked up from his menu and

said..."When in Rome you do as the

Romans do!"

Frank followed, "and when in Amsterdam,

do as the Dutch do!"--waving a Dutch

Master's cigar in his hand.

They started with the first few items in the

menu and went down the list. It wasn't long

before I joined in, under the old impression

that second hand smoke is worse than first

hand. Damn you peer-pressure, you win

again! They wanted to try everything. The

café started playing a Bob Marley song and

they went crazy. You would have thought

that Bob came back and shook their hands.

Massimo was in the corner, focused on

making a smoking contraption with his

papers. It appeared to be a cross from rolling

papers. Upon finishing it, he lit the three

ends of it and took a drag from the fourth

end. They all took turns passing it around.

By this time, more people had filled the bar

which added fuel to the fire so to speak. A

haze of smoke filled the room causing it to

hotbox (weed term). Before I knew it I was

blown, or as the hippies say stoned. Nick

got up and approached a table full of girls

that wore similar uniforms—at the moment I

62
was too high to remember what they're

called. He asked one of them to dance.

Frank quickly followed suit while Massimo

remained in the corner meticulously packing

a cigarette box with several rolled joints. I

pulled out my cell phone and before I knew

it I was chief tweeting (as opposed to

drunken texting, when you get drunk and

start texting; you get high and start

tweeting). A pretty blonde haired girl with a

doll face wearing a KLM uniform came up

to me and asked me if I wanted a cigarette.

There was always something alluring about

women that smoked; something that hinted

danger. Nevertheless I was drawn to her out

of curiosity.

Ironically cigarette smoking wasn't allowed

in the café so I followed her outside.

"American I see."

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess."

"Well yes, I'm from the Big Apple."

"What's that?"

"New York."

"Ah New York City...

"Yea, have you been there?"

"Yes we have flown there many times, but

we never have time to do anything. I am a

63
flight attendant" she said tugging at her

uniform.

"Ah yeah I noticed."

"So you come to Amsterdam to get high

with your friends huh?"

"Not really...that was they're plan I just

came along for the ride. I'm more of a

drinker."

"Ha ha ha"

"What's so funny?"

"You don't look like the drinking type",

she uttered in her Dutch accent.

Now feeling somewhat insulted I asked "So

what is the drinking type supposed to look

like?

"Most of the men are chubby and have

dirty mouths."

"Oh really, so I take it you don't drink."

"Why do you say this?"

"Because from looking at you I can see

that you don't quite fit that description

either."

"Who said I didn't have a dirty mouth?"

she smirked.

She tossed her cigarette butt and while

locking her eyes with mine, slowly walked

towards me.

"American, I'm Melu what is your name?"

"My friends call me Mel."

64
"Mel and Melu, I like the sound of this"

she said with a devilish grin.

In a slow and sexy tone she asked—"Can I

be your friend...Mel?"

"Well, Melu...I sure hope so. Can I buy

you a drink?"

"You seem to be very sure of yourself

Mel."

She smiled and leaned in towards my ear to

whisper "let us see how sure you are when I

drink you under the table".

Cajoled yet puzzled by her American

clichés, ultimately I took it to mean she was

challenging me to a drinking contest.

I tossed my cigarette butt and took her by

the hand.

The next morning, I woke up on a

living room floor in the midst of what

seemed to be a trashed condo [completely

assuming it wasn't this way before I got

here.] I was lying next to the Dutch girl that

I had met last night, not able to remember

her name at the moment. She was sleeping

in shorts and a tank top. My head was

pounding and I had skunk breath. Nick and

his brothers came tiptoeing over.

"Mel, come on let's go" whispered Nick.

65
Although I was curious as to where I was

and what happened last night; I was more

curious as to why they were all smiling so

hard. I threw on my shirt and jacket and

made sure I had my cell phone and wallet.

As I turned to wake the Dutch girl, Frank

interjected "shhhhh....no it's alright...we

have to go" he whispered.

We quietly tiptoed out of the condo.

I had no clue where we were but I did know

it was pretty high up. We took the elevator

down to the lobby from the 22nd floor.

The second we walked outside I was blinded

by the sun. It was the brightest I'd seen it

since I had been in Europe.

"So why were you guys smiling so hard?

What's going on?" I asked

"We trash that place last night" Frank

answered while chuckling.

"So...and..."

"It was this girl's parents' place. They

called and I answered the phone" laughed

Frank. "They were sooo mad and they said

they were calling the police, so we leave."

"You guys are crazy. What the hell did we

do last night?"

"Mel, you don't remember? Tell him

Nick."

66
"You challenged that girl to a drinking

contest. She almost beat you, but she

wouldn't drink the last shot so you took it."

"What were we drinking?"

"You drink everything!"

"What?" I replied, completely oblivious to

what was going on."

"Yes, and you kept yelling "I AM A

FUCKING BEAST" and then you pass out

on the train."

"What train?"

"The Thalys train."

At that moment I realized that we had to be

in another city. In the middle of me asking

where we were, I looked up to notice the

Eiffel Tower in the distance.

"Nick, why in the hell did we come to

Paris last night?"

"The girls invite us back to France. You

don't remember anything do you? Here look

see...Massimo took pictures."

From the looks of the pictures I definitely

had alcohol poisoning last night. My eyes

were overly glazed and I had taken my shirt

off.

We stopped at a McDonalds outside the

train terminal. I'm convinced we stopped

67
there because they thought I'd want to eat

American food, but at that moment I didn't

care.

While biting into my Royal TS cheeseburger

it hit me. "Melu! That's her name! Right?" I

shouted out with confidence. "Shit, I didn't

even get her number."

"Mel...forget about her...don't worry there

are plenty of women in Europe. Trust me...

I have a new plan" Nick responded.

"So what's the plan?" I asked, more

concerned about my luggage being back in

Germany.

"We go back to Stuttgart for a birthday

party."

"Oh yes, le regazze!—the girls" said

Massimo with excitement in his eyes.

"Huh? What's that?"

Massimo leaned in closer as if to let me in

on a secret.

"Okay, before we go to the beer factory

yesterday we meet two girls from the

German Academy in Stuttgart. They invite

us to a birthday party for tonight. Nick has

the number from them. You coming, right?"

asked Massimo.

"Yea I'll go, but I have to get back to the

hotel and shower first."

68
After a long restless train ride in

which my hang over constantly faded in and

out, we finally arrived back in Stuttgart.

"Hey Mel, we will come to your hotel

around 20. Okay man?" said Nick as we

exited the train station.

"What does that mean?"

"Sorry, I mean 8 o'clock."

"Oh okay good, just call my phone."

The train station had an unseen exit

that was literally across the street from my

hotel, and from the distance I could see that

they were quite busy today. The driveway in

front was overloaded with cabs. And even

the bar was encumbered with patrons. The

time was now 5 o'clock and I wanted to get

a quick nap in so I hurried up to my room.

Everything in my room seemed to be intact

and just the way I left it. Although it felt

sweltering hot like the inside of an Ugg

boot. In an effort to expedite the cooling

process I set the thermostat to 40 before

carefully choosing my outfit for the night.

Afterwards, I rested on the bed and in no

time I was zonked out.

69
 Chapter 7

awoke from the pulsating of my

phone. I looked to see who was calling me

but it was just my alarm. As I turned over on

my side I felt a stream of sweat beads run

across my forehead. Certainly, I remember

turning the heater down before I went to

sleep. Taking a closer look at it I thought to

myself it must be broken or something.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that they used

Celsius this side of the hemisphere, so in

actuality I was turning the heat up. I went in

to the bathroom and took a cold shower.

Cold showers ranked high upon my list of

not so favorite things to do, but at that

moment it was the most refreshing shower

I'd ever had. Without hesitation, I got

dressed to head down stairs; I had to get out

of that room.

As I unsuccessfully tried to connect

to my Twitter account, I got a call from

Nick. He and the gang had just pulled up

71

I
outside. I was in the bar at the time so I told

them to come in for a drink but,

understandably, they were more eager to get

to the girls' place.

Walking out through the revolving door of

the hotel, I observed Frank hanging out the

window of a dark grey Mercedes as Nick

blew the horn to get my attention.

"PAESANNN!!!" they yelled from the car

windows.

"Where in the hell did you guys get this

car from?" I asked perplexed.

"We rented it earlier; hop in so we can go

meet le regazze!"

I got in and Massimo offered me a joint (I

assumed it was smuggled from Amsterdam).

"No thanks, I want to actually remember

this night", I replied.

Frank handed me a huge bottle of cheap

vodka and pulled out a map to show Nick

how to get to the girls' place. The girls were

in a town 20 minutes east of us called

Waiblingen.

After driving around in circles for

about 30 minutes, we finally found the

autobahn. I gave Frank a 3-6 Mafia cd to put

in. To my surprise, they liked it. Massimo

looked high as hell. I was a little buzzed too

72
and hyper from the vodka. I told Nick to

punch it to 150 km. He did, and we nearly

passed our exit. Momentarily, we arrived at

the girls' place that was located in a heavily

wooded neighborhood.

In the trunk of the car was a

viscacious amount of libation; the good shit

too. These guys really came prepared. Eager

to get a glimpse of what they looked like, I

helped Frank carry some of the drinks in.

They opened the door and greeted us with

hugs and cheek kisses. There were five

beautiful girls, all wearing short skirts and

stilettos. Nick introduced me as his

American brother. They were quite tall and

thin with model frames--typically not my

type, but gorgeous nonetheless. I assumed

they were all German. They shared similar

Teutonic facial features. Light colored eyes,

thin lips, profiled noses, and pale skin. I

could also tell they were apart of some

sorority from the likes of their apartment

decor. Frank and I put the alcohol on the

table in the dining room. There was some

sort of techno music coming from the living

room. I could only assume this was the 'pre-

game' to something bigger because the

73
house wasn't quite set up with anything

celebratory besides party cups and alcohol.

"Are we going to be the only guys here?" I

asked Nick.

"I think so, we drink now and then we go

to the party. It's not far from here."

Massimo turned and asked if he

could listen to my cd. I told him I didn't

care, so he went to retrieve it from the car.

Sara, introduced as the birthday girl,

came over to me and asked if I wanted to

drink with her.

"Most definitely" I replied.

We started out with a few shots of vodka

and reluctantly I moved to beer.

During our drinking session, I quickly

established a conversation in which we

discussed her friends, school, and life in

Germany...the typical things a girl likes to

talk about.

"How long are you here from America?"

she asked.

"I don't know... a night; two nights

maybe" I answered in an attempt to

insinuate some urgency upon the situation.

"My friends and I have busy schedules, but

altogether, there's no place we'd rather be

tonight than celebrating your birthday with

you." The more I drank the more bullshit

74
started to flow from my lips, and it actually

worked.

"Aww you are so nice Mel" she replied as

her face became rose from blushing.

Massimo came in and gave the cd to

one of the other girls to play. Just as soon as

the first song came on, all of the girls came

in to the living room singing the lyrics. I

thought I was in the fucking twilight zone

for a second.

I was astonished and baffled.

"Do you listen to this?" I asked Sara

"Oh yes we love 3-6 mafia," she replied.

Damn... it was evident that tonight was

going to be an interesting night, presumably.

Frank reached in to one of his bags

in the kitchen and pulled out a strange

looking bottle. Whatever it was, he poured it

in to small cups and passed them around,

which everyone else happily accepted.

Apparently I was the only one that wasn't

aware of what it was. The cups contained a

thick green liquid that smelled like Vick's

Vapor rub and liquorish. Frank straddled a

silver spoon on his cup and placed a sugar

cube on top as he poured water over it. I

75
tapped Nick on the shoulder... "What in the

hell is this?"

"It's absinthe drink, but don't worry it's

not the real kind" he answered.

I had seen the drink before in the liquor

stores at home but never thought to buy it

because the box looked kind of weird. Sara

passed the spoon to me. I thought to myself,

yea fucking right—I shook my head

declining.

"Come on...big baby. Grow some fucking

balls! Frank yelled.

"Lose some fucking weight," I recanted.

"Please for my birtsday," Sara pleaded.

"Okay, okay, alright already."

Not wanting to be a downer, and not to

mention having the whole room focused on

me, I threw it back and down the hatch it

went leaving a liquorish Nyquil flavor in my

mouth.

"PAESANNN!!!!" shouted Frank, followed

with cheers from the girls.

"COME LET'S GO!!!"...shouted Sara

while laughing at the bitter face I was

making. She then took me by the hand as we

headed out. I could already foresee that

tonight was definitely going to top last

night's pandemonium; but fuck it you got to

live a little, right?

76
Everyone loaded in to the cars.

Subsequently we followed the girls to the

club. The route consisted of a bunch of

sketchy back roads through desolate wooded

areas. Finally, we arrived in a more urban

setting that consisted of street lights and

small stores. As we turned the corner of a

side street we pulled in to a gravel parking

lot.

The club looked very grim on the

outside, like an old cotton mill or a meat

factory. It was one of those clubs where you

couldn't tell if there was anything going on

in the inside or if it was a club at all. This

had to be a techno club. As we entered Sara

said something to one of the bouncers, who

was the size of a pro wrestler, and kissed

him on the cheek. She then grabbed my

hand and led us all in. My instincts were

right. It was indeed a techno club, with neon

strobe lights everywhere. Most of the people

here were dressed in tights, ripped clothing

and wore glow lights around they're necks. I

was severely confused because the girls we

were with weren't dressed this way at all.

As I walked towards the bar to get a

much needed drink, Sara came up and took

77
me by the arm and said... "Mel, come we go

upstairs." We walked up the side staircase to

an upper level where they were playing hip

hop music. This room was much larger and

had even more people in it. As we walked in

they were playing an old yet classic Jay-Z

song from the Dynasty album. For a second,

I thought I was back in New York. There

was a familiar aroma that filled our side of

the room. I looked around and standing next

to me was guy smoking a black and mild

cigar. Now I truly felt at home. Nick and I

followed the girls to a table on the

mezzanine, while Frank and Massimo

headed to the bar. They came back with

bottles of champagne and beer. The waitress

then brought flute glasses and yellow shots

in plastic test tubes.

"They're called piss shots! You must try

one", said Sara.

I stood aside with my beer and watched as

the rest of the group downed their piss shots

toasting to Sarah's birthday. The girls

chatted and danced with each other while

we stood at the rail overlooking the dance

floor.

Nick leaned towards me and asked... "So

which one do you want?"

78
"I hesitated...It really doesn't matter

they're all beautiful."

He looked back and confirmed "you're right

about that my friend; I think the birthday

girl wants you to come over."

I turned around to look at her; she was

winking and signaling me to come over with

her index finger. I walked towards her with

a smug smirk on my face. As I approached,

she put a mint in her mouth. I took her by

the waist side and almost instantaneously,

yet unexpectedly, her lips pressed up against

mine followed by the coolness of her

tongue. Some way or another I ended up

with her mint. Oddly, it tasted pretty stale

for a mint. I had to take another swig of beer

afterwards. Suddenly she pulled me by the

shirt and said "come let's dance!" I turned to

the guys and told them to come with me as

she pulled me along.

We proceeded to the dance floor and

as for some odd coincidence, as if someone

shouted USA's in the house, the DJ began to

play all of the latest chart topping songs

from back home. After the first few spins he

started to incorporate some fist pumping

songs. Ok, now things were starting to

appear more realistic. As I observed people

79
on the dance floor, I saw that there weren't

any good dancers here. In fact they were

pretty bad; but unabashed to admit it, so was

I.

The dance floor, which was fair

before, was crazy packed. The DJ played a

popular German song, which I actually

recognized from the 90's that everyone

shouted the words to. They proceeded to

jump up and down and pump their fists.

People from the balcony began spraying

champagne in to the crowd and the

waitresses started to dance in iridescent

cages located on both sides of the bar. The

music continued to thump louder and

louder. It was if the whole club had gone

mad and I surely expected Euros to start

falling from the sky at any moment. The

excitement overwhelmed us all. I looked

down at my shirt and saw that it was soaked.

I couldn't tell if it was from sweating or the

champagne.

As I clawed my way from the dance

floor I felt my heart beating faster than

usual. I then touched my forehead. I was

burning up in temperature, even hotter than

previously in my hotel room. I walked back

down stairs because I remembered passing

some restrooms on our way in. Although my

80
vision was blurred my main concern at that

moment was to get dry. I knew that from the

time we left the girls' place, the temperature

outside would have dropped to freezing by

now.

Luckily no one was waiting in line,

so I dashed in to the bathroom in search for

a hand dryer but found paper towels instead.

I took my shirt off and rang the sweat from

it. Glancing in the mirror I could see that I

was perspiring all over the place. My vision

had grown fainter and I began seeing small

spots as well. Someone must have put

something in my drink. I definitely had to

go lie down somewhere. My first thought

was to get the keys from Nick so that I could

go lay in the car.

I exited the bathroom only to enter a

crazed techno world, which by now, was

annoying the hell out of me. The lights

tormented the little eye sight I had left, to

the point where I couldn't see where the hell

I was going. Looking down at the floor

made me feel like I was in the fun house at

Coney Island. When I stood still everything

started to spin and for a moment I felt sick.

Slumped over in the hallway, I refused to

81
hurl because I knew exactly what would

follow...more hurling. I stood up with the

back of my head pressed against the wall

and my eyes closed. The coolness from the

wall started to relax me and my heart rate

finally eased to a normal paste. Just to be

sure I was ok I stood there for about twenty

minutes. I would have stood there even

longer but a song with tremendous bass

started to vibrate the wall, giving me a

pulsating headache in return. Upon opening

my eyes, a tall skinny girl with red hair

wearing a pink latex skirt walked by and

randomly squeezed both of my cheeks. She

then skipped along towards the dance floor.

WTF!? I had to get the hell out of here. I

pushed off of the wall and walked up the

steps to find the guys.

The club seemed to be a little bit

calmer now and I could see Massimo on the

balcony at our table. I staggered through the

crowd and made it up the top of the stairs,

then headed towards the mezzanine. There

was a crowded line filling the stairway, and

in the distance I could see Massimo

smoking in the corner. I leaned over the side

of the rail and hollered out to get his

attention. He spotted me and came over and

82
held out his hand to pull me up pass the

crowd. Back at the table, I took my wet shirt

off and put on my coat.

"Where's everyone at?" I asked. While

sipping his beer, Massimo stood at the rail

and pointed down. Right as I looked down,

the entire place was in a fucking panic!

Everybody was running to the middle of the

floor as if there was a fight. All I could hope

was for it not to be Nick and Frank. As I

zeroed in to the center of the dance floor,

low and behold it was the Italians. Nick was

on the ground choking someone and Frank

was being pinned down by a bouncer.

Against my better judgment, I rushed down

the stairs. By the time I got to the fight

Massimo was already there wrestling with a

guy beside Nick. He had to have jumped

from the balcony.

My vision was still blurred but I

managed to see someone jump on Nick's

back. I came from the blind side and swung

as hard as I could. At once my fist

connected with a face bone, perhaps

fracturing my hand on impact. I came back

to swing with the other hand only to miss

because the subject had already fallen to the

floor. As I started to kick him I got swiped

83
in the side of my head with a bottle. It

wasn't hard enough to break the bottle but

certainly hard enough to hurt like hell.

While on the ground trying to recover from

a slight concussion, I started to cough

extremely hard and found it difficult to

breathe. I take this as someone must have

sprayed pepper spray. Suddenly, one of the

bouncers grabbed me by the back of my

coat. I squirmed out of it and hauled ass

following the crowd making their way to a

side exit. My heart was beating even faster

than before. When I came darting out of the

doors not only was it freezing but it was

raining as well. To my left, which is the

opposite of where everyone was running, I

spotted a tall girl with long dark hair. She

stood underneath the fire escape smoking a

cigarette, and resembled Sara from behind.

As I started towards her, my sight grew

dimmer and my legs got weaker.

"SARA!" I bellowed out before collapsing

to the wet pavement.

84
 Chapter 8

slowly opened my eyes to the

brightness of the sun spreading throughout

an unfamiliar living room. Again, I had

absolutely no recollection of how I got

there. One thing for sure, it felt like I had

been drugged. My head was pounding and

my nerves a bit shaky. My right hand had

been wrapped snug in cloth bandages. I

couldn't tell if the pain in my back was from

the fighting last night or the couch that I was

sleeping on. Faintly in the background I

could hear a familiar tune playing, but with

German lyrics. I turned to lay on my side

with my eyes half squinted to see the

television. It was the theme song from

Sponge Bob. To my surprise, there was a

little kid knelt in front of the TV drinking

out of a mug. She was pale skinned with

short brown hair; around the age of 8 or so.

She laughed uncontrollably as she watched.

As my mind tried to piece things together I

85

I
kept drawing blanks. I didn't feel as if I

were in a threatening environment so I

stayed calm and tried to rationalize things.

First, I remember going to the club, partying

with girls, fighting alongside the Italians,

then running out of the club; the rest was all

a blur.

I quickly examined my body to see if

I had sustained any other injuries. Aside

from a sore hand and a headache I was fine,

but immediately after that I realized I had on

someone else's clothes. I was wearing an

extra small shirt with a cartoon printed on

the front and small running shorts. As I

looked around the room for my clothes I

started to panic. Maybe someone had stolen

them. My wallet, passport, money as well as

my phone were in my jeans.

I didn't want to disturb the kid from her

cartoons, but I needed some answers. As not

to startle her, in a low and calm voice I

uttered "Guten morgen"—"Good Morning."

She turned around and looked back at me

with a smile and said "Morgen Papa!"

—"Morning Papa!" and then went back to

watching her show.

"Papa?" I repeated.

86
I looked around the room and no one else

was there. I thought for a second. Never

have I known papa to be a German word.

My mind was in a blitz trying even harder to

recall the events of last night. Could I have

adopted a kid? Not possible that late at

night. Could I have gotten married to her

mother last night? Possible, but I had no

ring on my finger and I doubt I would have

slept on the couch afterwards. The only

reasonable explanation is that she was

confused and I was lost.

"Hey little girl...um where are your

parents?" She turned and smiled and said

something really fast in German. Apparently

she didn't speak English. "Was ist Ihr

Name?"—"What is your name?" I asked.

"Mein Name ist Emily"—"My name is

Emily"...she answered.

"Okay, mein Name ist"—"My name is"...

Before I could respond she yelled "Papa!"

then smiled.

The door began to rattle. Someone was

about to come in. The little girl ran upstairs

as if she was afraid of whoever was on the

other side of the door. I looked around for a

back door but didn't see one. Before I could

87
even sit back down, the door opened. In

walked a slightly older Caucasian woman;

approximately early thirties. Her hair was

pulled back with a hair band, while a few

pieces hung to her chin. She was carrying a

bag of potatoes. Perhaps the little girl's

mother, I assumed. She remained at the door

and looked at me, with her captivating hazel

eyes, as I stood helpless and confused near

the sofa.

"Hallo. How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Umm....I-I feel okay. So...where am I

exactly?"

"You are in Haslach, about 10 miles south

of downtown Stuttgart. You fell and passed

out outside of the club last night and I

brought you here."

She took a look at the television and without

hesitation, yelled "EMILY"!!!!!!!!!

Emily ran down the stairs and the woman

spoke German to her. Emily made a pouting

face as if she had gotten in trouble.

"I'm sorry I told her not to wake you" the

woman said.

"That's alright she didn't wake me. But

um...I was kind of looking for my clothes?"

"Close? Excuse me, I don't understand."

"My clothes...like my pants and stuff."

88
"Oh your clothes, yes they are drying.

They were wet so I dry them. Come, I can

get them for you."

I followed her into the kitchen and sat at the

kitchen table. I still had so many questions

because there were still so many blanks.

"Is your husband here?"

"No, I'm not married."

"Is your boyfriend here?"

"No, I'm not with a boyfriend."

Her answers were short and I wasn't exactly

getting the extra feedback I wanted. Perhaps

I was asking the wrong questions. I

continued.

"What is your name?"

"Hannah" she replied as she began to fold

the clothes from the dryer.

"My name is"...before I could answer she

said "Mel right?"

"Yea how'd you know?"

"I saw your id in your wallet" she replied,

holding it up for me to see.

"Oh okay; is Emily your daughter?"

"Yes she is."

She handed me my jeans as well as my cell

phone and wallet and sat down at the table.

89
"Emily called me Papa. Do you know

what she means by that?" She sat at the

table with her face resting against the palms

of her hands and gazed at me with a smile.

She chuckled.

"I don't get it what's funny?"

She pointed at me and in a calm voice said

"your shirt...you have papa Smurf on your

shirt. You didn't have on one last night so I

gave you this one to put on."

I took it off and looked at it. Oh wow what a

relief. I then put my shirt and pants on and

sat down to face her.

"I really do owe you a great deal of

gratitude for what you did. So thank you

very much Hannah. If there's anything I can

do to repay just you let me know."

She smiled slightly and said "you're

welcome and don't worry about it".

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are

you?"

"Here it is not polite to ask a woman her

age", she responded with a cold look on her

face.

In an attempt to quickly change the subject I

asked her if she worked at the club.

Consequently, she was there last night

checking on some arrangements she'd made

with the club. I also found out that she

90
worked as a nurse at a hospital in Stuttgart.

In the middle of conversing my stomach

began to growl.

"Are there any restaurants or fast food

places nearby?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry how rude of me. Are

you hungry?"

"Yes, but I won't trouble you. You've

done more than enough already."

"No you will stay here and eat with us. It

is no trouble."

Hannah prepared a great deal of chicken

soup. Emily hardly touched her food, and

there was plenty left over. She urged me to

have as much as I wanted. The hunger pains

I felt would've easily caused me to over

indulge, and I didn't want to give off the

impression that I was greedy.

"Your phone rang while you were asleep"

she said.

I took a quick look at it and saw that I had

seven missed calls; all of which were from

Nick. I excused myself from the table to call

him back.

91
Nick answered with a bit of urgency in his

voice.

"Hey Nick what's going on?"

"We couldn't find you last night when we

left the club. Are you okay?"

"Yea somehow I ended up at this lady's

house but I'm alright."

"Good, the Polizia were everywhere; we

thought maybe they arrest you."

"No I'm fine. How's everybody else?"

"Good, well kind of. We are just leaving

the hospital. Frank broke his hand last

night."

"Damn...where are you guys headed to

when you leave the hospital?"

"To the airport we have to go back home."

"You mean back to Italy?"

"Yea we just wanted say goodbye. We

leave tonight."

"Well I doubt I'll back in time to see you

guys off. Tell Frank and Massimo it's been

fun." Before I could finish saying goodbye,

my phone dropped the call. In the middle of

scolding my service provider, I noticed there

appeared to be water coming from the sides

of it. Last night's rain must have gotten a

hold of it somehow. My battery was dead. I

had to get back to my hotel ASAP to charge

it. I returned to the kitchen.

92
"Hannah, I need to get back to my hotel. Is

there a bus or train station near?"

"Yes there is. Just a minute please, I will

show you."

"Okay, thanks."

As she walked upstairs the doorbell rang.

"Mel that is my sister, can you let her in

please?" Hannah yelled down.

93
 Chapter 9

went to open the door. There

stood a gorgeous petite young woman with

long dark hair and piercing green eyes. She

had an olive skin complexion similar to

Hannah's. Early twenties I suspected. I

hesitated in amazement. She stood there and

smiled at me, followed with "Guten Taq"—

"Good Day".

I recanted "Hi...umm...Hannah's upstairs."

"Okay, I am Inga and you are?"

Before I could answer, Hannah came down

and gave her a hug as they started chatting

in their native tongue.

"This is Mel, a friend. Mel, this is my little

sister Inga."

"Nice to meet you" said Inga while

shaking my hand.

I responded with "Ver suchen Sie"—"Nice

to meet you".

She and Hannah both looked amazed.

I

95
"Ah sprechen sie Deutsche?"—"You speak

German?" Inga asked.

"A little bit, just a few phrases here and

there" I replied.

Emily came thundering down the stairs

"INGA!!!!" she screamed while running up

and hugging her.

Hannah turned to me, "are you ready Mel?"

"Um, ready for what?" I replied.

"You want to go to the train station, no?"

"Oh yea, but if you point me in the right

direction I can find it myself. Your sister

just got here and I don't want to burden or

further inconvenience you."

"Melll" Hannah said in a low motherly

tone while cutting her eye at me.

"No. You will come with us," Inga

happily insisted. "We will have lots of fun

right Emily?"

"Yaaaaaay!!!" cheered Emily.

"Well if you insist", I responded while

shrugging my shoulders.

"Let's go Papa," joked Emily.

"I hope you don't mind, we have to make

a stop downtown" said Hannah reaching

into her purse.

"Oh no, not at all" I replied with an

insisting smile.

96
As we headed to the bus stop I couldn't help

but notice how similar this was to having a

family outing. I made sure to pay close

attention to the process of taking the bus as I

knew how expensive taxis here were. The

bus fare had to be paid in advance at a ticket

machine near the stop. All of the buses had a

touch pad for opening the doors upon

entering and exiting the bus. These buses

were a lot bigger and a lot cleaner than the

buses I was used to in New York. Hannah

told me that the majority of people in

Stuttgart take the bus and the train as appose

to driving because of limited parking. I felt

this was quite ironic considering it was one

of the most premier automobile makers in

all of Germany.

When the bus arrived downtown, I was

surprised to see so many people out

shopping on a weekday. The store outlets

were numerous and resembled a market

place. As Hannah entered a department

store, Emily started to pull Inga's hand and

begged "Ich mochte einige Eis"—"I want

ice cream".

97
Inga smiled at me and said "I'm going to

take Emily to get some ice cream. Want to

come?"

"Sure."

As I walked with Inga we began to get to

know each other a little. She was twenty-

five years old and lived in Koln Germany,

but was visiting Hannah due to a fall break

from school.

She was somewhat skeptical of how

I knew Hannah and also curious as to why

my hand was bandaged. I told her the story

of the previous night all the way up to the

point when I met her today. Initially, she

was taken aback by everything but still

viewed me as a guest.

"Mel, do you eat ice-cream?"

"No thank you, I'm alright."

"How long will you be staying in

Germany?" she asked.

"Just for a couple of weeks or until my

money runs out" I joked.

We walked back up the way to meet up

with Hannah. She was leaving the store just

as we approached. She seemed to be in a

disturbed mood. I could only wonder what

was going on as she and Inga spoke

discretely. Inga must have discovered my

perplexity from the look on my face.

98
"They want to charge her 200 Euro for a

scarf for Emily" Inga said.

"Wow! That's a lot of money for a scarf."

"Yes it is. But don't worry we go

somewhere else" she replied.

"Mel, what hotel are you staying?" asked

Hannah.

"I'm at the Intercity Hotel."

"We can walk with you if you'd like."

"Sure, it's right up near the train station."

Up at the hotel, I could see that everything

was back to its sluggish pace. Inga and

Hannah decided to wait for me in the lobby

while I ran up to my room. Upon examining

my room, it had been cleaned and my bags

were just as I left them. Most importantly

nothing was missing. The temperature was

now back on burr; what a relief.

Seeing that it was my last day as a registered

guest, I headed back down stairs to extend

my stay and join the others.

It was starting to get late and seeing as they

had to hurry to catch the bus, I bid farewell

to them. I also thanked Hannah for all that

she had done for me and exchanged

numbers with Inga.

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Afterwards, I rushed up to my room to

charge my phone. In about an hour or so it

started to work again, with the exception of

being able to check twitter of course.

I took a moment to reflect on my trip

thus far. What kind of purpose was I looking

to fulfill here? I couldn't really say that it

was a trip for rest and relaxation. Hell, from

the moment I stepped in to Europe I'd done

nothing but party and bullshit. It was time

for me to either get focused or just go home.

That night was only the second night

I slept in a bed in the four days that I'd been

here. It felt great sleeping in the next

morning too.

Right as I was about hop in the

shower, I got a text from Inga. She and

Emily were coming this way for lunch and

she wanted to know if I wanted to join them.

Seeing as I hadn't scheduled anything, I

agreed.

A few hours later, I spotted Inga and Emily

standing outside a Mexican restaurant called

La Hacienda.

"Halo Papa!" teased Emily.

"Halo Sponge Bob" I teased back.

Inga seemed happy to see me.

"How are you? She asked.

100
"Ser Gud und Du—Very good and you" I

responded.

"Auch Gud Danke—Also good thanks"

she replied while smiling.

The hostess approached and showed us to

our table.

"So where is Hannah?" I asked.

"She is working today."

"Oh so you're just out spending some

quality time with your niece huh?"

"Yes, we go ice skating today" Emily

interjected. "Mel, are you coming? Please!

Please!" Emily pleaded.

"Sorry I don't ice skate, but I don't mind

watching the both of you."

"Oh come on", said Inga. "You have to

skate too!"

"Mel, I can teach you" insisted Emily. I can

skate really good.

"You can skate really well"...Inga corrected

her.

"Okay, maybe I'll give it a try. But I'm not

making any promises." I responded.

During lunch, Inga asked me lots of

questions. A tad bit more than I was

prepared for. She inquired about my family

101
and was very intrigued in what I did for a

living. I neglected to mention how I quit my

job. Instead I chose to share with her my

lifelong dream of becoming a writer.

Inga, an overachiever from what I'd

gathered, was extremely fascinated with

this. She continued to inquire; this time

more earnestly about when and where I

write, what I preferred to write about, as

well as whom I was interested in writing for.

Not wanting to purposely avoid her

questions, I had to be quick on my feet. I

told her that I would most likely write about

sensitive and serious issues. And that as a

reader, I enjoy stories that tend to leave

more of an impact on morals and ethics.

She hung on to every word as I carried on.

To me, it was a wonder to have an attentive

listener as Inga.

Lisa never listened to me at the

dinner table; in fact I can hardly remember

ever being able to get a word in for that

matter. She would constantly ramble on

about how someone or something was

annoying her at work, or how much business

she was getting for the convention center,

and tons of mediocrity. Recalling the night

we broke up, I never even got the chance to

tell her about the tickets to Europe.

102
Although, I can't say I didn't see the break

up coming. It was bound to happen. We

rarely spoke on the phone and our sex life

was virtually non-existent. Frankly, I was

more hurt from not having a job than her

breaking up with me. Nevertheless that

chapter was over.

"So Inga, do you like to travel?"

"Oh yes, all of the time. Honestly, there is

not much to do here in Germany because the

weather is cold and rainy all year round.

Most German people work and save up

throughout the year just to travel and

vacation. I, myself, have been all around

Europe and Asia but never to America."

"Ah that's a shame," I added.

"I very much want to go to New York and

California. Everyone here talks about

vacationing in the states" she added.

"Well those are definitely popular

destinations. Hey, I have an idea! If you

don't mind, could you show me around a

little bit? And if or when you come to the

states I could show you a few places as

well?" I asked hoping she would say yes.

"Sure. Where would you like to go?"

"I would like to see historical places. I

minored in history when I was in college

103
and I think it would be an interesting subject

to write about. You know, just to start out.

I've been thinking about writing about the

changes in European culture over the years;

Germany, to be specific."

"Sure. That's a good idea. We can go to

the tourist center near the train station

tomorrow. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, that's perfect, I responded."

After lunch we walked up the block

to the outdoor skating rink. I stood in line

behind a short black man who spoke

English. He was getting a pair of ice skates

for a little boy that I suspected was his son.

The man wore a green flight jacket and

beige combat boots. I assumed he was

stationed here at the U.S. military base. He

reminded me of Andre the bartender from

back in NY.

"Come Mel, put on your skates," said

Emily tugging on my jacket.

"I'm not sure about this, I could break my

ankle," I said to Inga.

"Come here you baby, she said tightly

strapping the skates on to my feet."

We slowly walked on to the ice and right off

the bat, I fell down. It was as if I'd never

skated in my life. I used the toy penguin

(training wheels for beginners) to stand up.

104
Emily quickly skated over and was

determined to teach me how to skate.

Meanwhile, Inga began to show off her

skills by doing a series of twirls. I noticed a

smirk on her face. She came slowly gliding

over until suddenly she fell, ass first, on to

the ice. I tried my best not to laugh. Instead I

reached down and helped her up, then

handed her the toy penguin. She laughed

hysterically.

After an embarrassing and painful lesson, it

was getting late so I walked with them to the

subway station. Upon entering the station, I

got a strange craving for croissants. This

was credited to the bakeries that filled the

terminal. I was used to the subway stations

smelling like brake dust and piss.

We sat and waited for their train.

Emily, worn out from the fun-filled day, fell

asleep in Inga's lap. Inga and I began to

make plans for the next day. Not before

long, the train approached and I bid goodbye

to them. Inga told me that she had a fun time

and, surprisingly, placed a single kiss on my

cheek.

The next day Inga met me out in the

downtown square. She brought a map that

105
she'd gotten from the tourist center along

with her. It labeled all of the nearby

museums and historical sites in all of

Stuttgart.

Our venture began on a small tour

van that circled around the entire city. The

tour guide only spoke German, so poor Inga

had to translate everything he said. From

what I gathered, this southern part of

Germany sat at the for-front of industrial

and agricultural innovation. It was home to

the Mercedes Benz and Porsche museum.

The city took pride in their home grown

produce, wines, and beers; but above all

their soccer team. Shortly after the van tour

we viewed the Porsche Museum, and then

famous relics of art at a nearby art gallery

located just off of the autobahn.

The art gallery was very still and

quiet as the two of us were its only visitors

at the moment. The majority of the works

dwarfed us in comparison. No flash

photography was allowed, which only made

the silence even more awkward. As we

walked throughout the different rooms, I'd

often glance at Inga while making a silly

face. She'd then burst out into laughter. I

felt this was the perfect opportunity to ask

her a few questions of my own.

106
"So Inga, were you and Hannah born and

raised here in Stuttgart?"

"No not at all. We are not German."

A bit dumbfounded, I paused at her response

hoping that she would clarify.

"We're from Russia. Hannah and I came

to Germany with my grandmother. Our

parents passed away when I was just a

baby."

"Oh my, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's ok; Hannah remembers more about

them than I do. What of your family in New

York?" she asked.

"Well, I have one older brother, Jeff, who

is studying to be a doctor and my mother is

a florist. As for my father, I never really

knew him...he and my mother had a big

argument one day and he left. She never

bothered to look for him and he never

bothered to call; that is, according to Jeff. I

was just 3 at the time."

"Oh I am so sorry to hear that" said Inga.

"It's cool, shortly after that, the three of us

moved further up state to live with my

grandparents. Do you have any more family

here in Germany?"

"Yes we have a few cousins, but they're

all crazy."

107
I laughed.

"No I'm serious, they're really crazy...

and they hate German people. Hannah was

like them too at one time. She ran away

from my grandmother's house when she was

seventeen and we didn't hear from her for

years."

"We thought she had gone back to

Moscow, but she was just hanging around

the streets of Germany. Eventually, one day

she just showed up at the house pregnant,

and with her new husband."

"Husband?"

"Well ex-husband now...Emily's father

Gino. My grandmother hated Gino. He was

so disrespectful, and a drug dealer too. He

caused my sister a lot of stress you know.

All the time he was in and out of jail.

"Is he in jail now?" I asked.

"No, he has been out since four years,

maybe five. But he now owns two clubs

outside of the city. I really don't like him; he

rarely comes to see Emily. He is so full of

shit, you know."

I could see that Inga was getting upset from

the escalation in her tone of voice. As soon

as there was a pause I planned on changing

the subject; but she beat me to it.

108
"I'm kind of hungry from all of the

walking around. How about you?" she asked

"Yea sure, I could eat."

"What would you like? There is pizza,

Chinese, Mexican, McDonalds....."

"Well, I haven't been to any German

restaurants since I've been here and I'd hate

to come all this way and not try any German

food."

"Hmmm let me think, she pondered. There

aren't many good German restaurants

downtown. They're east of Stuttgart in

Bavaria."

"How far is that?"

"It is about a two hour train ride. Hmm I

know! I can cook for you. Would you like

that?"

"Yea sure, I don't mind that."

"Okay. We can stop by the grocery store

on the way to Hannah's."

The grocery store was much like the

grocery stores in New York small and

compact, except they had no grocery bags.

Not even for purchase. Luckily, Inga's purse

was big enough to fit everything. While

waiting for the bus, she showed me how to

purchase a bus ticket from the machine as

well as how to read the schedules. She also

109
taught me how to count my change. I pulled

out the coins I had in my pocket. The whole

time it hadn't occurred to me to count it. I

had about fifteen Euro worth of coins in it.

Since I'd been in Germany, I often

noticed homeless people meticulously

rummaging through waste baskets and

recycle bins carrying big plastic bags. Inga

informed me that they were in search for

bottles. Apparently, five bottles were worth

one Euro. I was amazed upon discovering

this. Even the homeless had jobs here.

We arrived at Hannah's house. No

one was home. I gathered that she was at

work and Emily was at school. I sat down

and watched television as Inga got started

on dinner.

Moments later Hannah and Emily

walked in. Hannah quickly spoke to me as

she headed in to the kitchen. Emily ran up to

her room with her head down. I could only

wonder what was upsetting Emily.

I could overhear Hannah and Inga having a

conversation in German, which I couldn't

decipher. Although, I heard Emily's name

come up quite often.

Inga walked in to the living room to

tell me that dinner was ready and yelled for

110
Emily to come down. The dining table was

nicely prepared. Inga had prepared veal

chops and pasta called Spatzle along with

salad and bread. As we all sat down to eat

the phone rang. Hannah got up to answer it.

She excused herself from the table and

walked in to the living room.

"How is the food? You like?" Inga asked.

"It's super, you did an excellent job.

Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Mostly from my grandmother and

Hannah, she answered."

Shortly Hannah returned back to the dinner

table. She appeared less disturbed than

before. She spoke off and on to Inga in

German while glancing at me and Emily a

few times. I understood very little.

"Mel, we have a favor to ask of you", Inga

said. They both looked at me.

"Sure what is it?"

"We were thinking that since you were

good at English and writing that maybe you

could help Emily with her lessons."

"You mean like a tutor or something?"

"Yes, a tutor" Hannah answered. "Just for

a few hours in the week, I will pay you."

111
"There's no need for that, I will do it for

free. Surely it's the least I can do; especially

for all that you've done for me."

The both of them thanked me. In addition,

Hannah thought it'd be more convenient for

me if I stayed here in the guest room

upstairs. Even though I'd already extended

my stay at the hotel until Saturday, I had no

problem with it. At least I would be closer to

Inga.

Later that evening, Inga told me that

Hannah had been under a lot of stress lately

and she couldn't understand why Emily had

been getting bad marks in school. Emily's

father hadn't been of much help either. They

were afraid that the separation was starting

to affect Emily's concentration at school.

On top of that, Hannah was needed to work

longer shifts at the hospital. Luckily, Inga

was there to help out.

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 Chapter 10

Hannah gave me a few of Emily's

English lessons. I skimmed through her

textbook to find there were supposedly two

versions of the English language, the UK

version and the American version.

We started off with a reading lesson.

I had her read a paragraph written in

German and subsequently another written in

English. To my astonishment, she read both

correctly and at the same pace as if it was

easy to her. She then turned to focus her

attention on the television.

"Emily, do you understand what you just

read in English?"

"Ummm...she hesitated [as if she would

be in trouble if she said no]...a little bit."

At that moment I understood exactly what

the problem was. She couldn't relate to the

material. An episode of Sponge Bob was

coming on. She sat Indian style on the floor

waiting eagerly.

113
"Do you like this show, Emily?"

"Yes, I love this show."

"Would you like to take a break and watch

this?"

"Oh yes please, she said excitedly."

"Alright, let's make a deal. I will let you

watch this but only if I can watch it with you

and it has to be a secret okay?"

"Okay", she nodded quickly.

"But my German isn't so good, so you

have to tell me what they're saying. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Throughout the show she translated

so much that she hardly had anytime to

laugh. For the next few nights we continued

this as our tutoring lesson.

Her next exam was scheduled for

Friday. That Thursday night I wanted to

make sure Emily was prepared. I had her

read the paragraph written in English from

the first night. The paragraph was about a

little boy named Paul and his friend

Thomas. It described their experience at the

library. First I showed her how to identify

the subject in the sentence, then the nouns.

Next, I had her identify the verbs. I then,

replaced Paul and Thomas with more

familiar names such as Sponge Bob and

Patrick. Instead of describing the library, I

114
had her describe their day at the Crusty Crab

(Sponge Bob's job). We then went back and

described the library. She discovered that

she had used a few of the same words when

she'd described the Crusty Crab. We

continued with these exercises for a while

and then I let her do the rest on her on. She

got the majority of them correct.

The weekend had arrived and I had

become more accustomed to life here in

Germany. Public transportation was routine

at this point. I was able to get downtown, to

Emily's school, to the train station, as well

as to the airport on my own. Through my

observations around town, I recognized that

the people here pretty much kept to

themselves. At times when I felt the need to

stop and ask for assistance, the younger

people were more eager to provide it.

Hannah and Inga wanted to take me

out to dinner as a thank you for tutoring

Emily. They told me to dress nice because it

would be a surprise.

I walked Emily over to the

neighbor's house to spend the night with her

friends. When I returned, the girls were all

115
dressed and ready to go. Inga looked

stunning in a floral printed white and silver

colored gown. Although, I'd have to say

Hannah looked ravishingly as this was my

first time seeing her with her hair let down.

Her lustrous curled locks drooped over the

side of her right shoulder down to her black

and white striped dress—which she wore so

well. They both stood tall and sexy in high

stiletto heels. [There was no doubt in my

mind that I was going to have to fend off the

wolves tonight.]

Instead of taking the bus, like we normally

did, Inga drove Hannah's car. It was a green

BMW, 2001 740i to be exact. I sat in the

back while Hannah prepared her makeup in

the front seat.

We arrived shortly at a big glass

building. After taking the elevator up to the

top floor, I was eager to see what this place

looked like.

It was a nice tapas restaurant with a

live band that played Arabic music. I was so

amazed to see a place this welcoming here

in Germany. Everything was like a scene

from a movie. The dim atmosphere was

complimented with a view of downtown and

the hills of the neighboring subdivisions,

116
which was much like Van Gogh's Starry

Night painting.

"So Mel what do you think?" asked Inga

"This place is very impressive" I replied.

"Yes, they have the best live music in all

of Stuttgart. Are you hungry?"

"Yea, sure"

I took a look at the menu and not too much

to my surprise I couldn't understand a damn

thing. I really needed to brush up on my

German. I looked up from the menu to see

Inga smiling at me.

"Don't worry I will order for you. You

like steak right?"

"Yes, that's perfect."

Shortly after ordering, the waiter brought

out a basket of fresh baked bread that

smelled way too good to turn down.

Unaware of such customs, I decided to not

be the first to reach for it.

"Would you like some bread?" Inga asked.

"Sure, thanks."

Hannah happily helped me choose a

bottle of wine to go with dinner. Notably,

I'd never been treated with such kindness. If

there was anything I could say these were

definitely my kind of people.

117
After consuming a superb dinner, the

unexpected happened. Inga asked me to

dance with her. I was nervous to say the

least but the wine was kicking in by this

time. I escorted her out to the dance floor.

The band had just begun playing a slow

song. Out the corner of my eye I could see

Hannah laughing at the two of us. Inga had a

smile on her face as well. The heat quickly

began to rise from the pressing of our palms.

Her hair swayed in the air as I gave her a

gentle spin. Her scent smelled of fine

essential oils. Towards the end of the song

she planted a soft kiss on my cheek. I

smiled, and in the back of my mind I was

desperately hoping that this was fate

attempting to repair my broken condition;

starting with my love life.

"Wow, it's really warm in here, yes?" said

Inga, fanning the brim of her blouse.

"Yea, I suppose it is. Would you like

something to drink? I can pick something up

from the bar."

"Sure, can you get me some water

please?"

"Sure, I'll bring it to the table."

I went to the bar, which was very crowded

by this time, and ordered a few waters and

118
another round of drinks. When I returned to

the table I was surprised to see a man sitting

in my chair, facing Inga. He wore a brown

leather jacket. As I walked closer I could see

that he was around my age. He had dirty

blonde hair, a pointed nose and very big

eyes that were cloudy and red as if he was

sick or something.

"Here is your water, Inga. I ordered

another round of drinks so it should be right

over."

The guy sat there staring at Inga with an

awkward smirk.

"Mel, this is Klaus," Inga said with a stern

and irritated look on her face.

The guy didn't acknowledge that I was even

there, so I didn't speak to him. Instead, I

was concerned about Inga and what was

going on.

"Is everything okay?" I asked while

looking at Inga. Her face was stone and her

voice silent.

"Nice to meet you I am Inga's boyfriend"

he said finally breaking his silence yet

making the situation even more awkward.

I looked back at Inga for confirmation—

nothing. She neither confirmed nor denied

any truth to his statement.

119
I then responded "nice to meet you"--

slightly dazed and confused.

"I am sorry, am I in your chair?" he said.

"No that's fine, you can sit there. I'll pull

up another one."

I pulled up a chair next to Inga. "Where is

Hannah?" I asked.

"She went to the restroom" said Inga.

"Mel, how do you know my Inga?" he

asked.

"He is a friend of me and Hannah, Inga

interrupted.

"You sound American, what brings you to

Germany?" he continued.

"He's writing a novel and doing important

things with his life," said Hannah upon

returning to the table. "Now what brings you

here Klaus?...Besides stalking my sister."

Still a bit confused and trying to get a better

understanding of the situation I began to ask

questions of my own.

"So Klaus, how long have you and Inga

been dating?" I asked inquisitively.

"Five years at the next month. We live in

Koln together."

"No, we used to live together," interrupted

Inga again. "We have been on a break" she

said with fury in her tone.

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I could sense that Inga was embarrassed by

his unannounced presence.

Klaus moved closer to Inga and

began speaking German way too fast for me

to understand anything he was saying.

He then pulled a small box out of his pocket

and kneeled down beside her. He opened the

box, exposing a ring. I could only guess that

he was in the midst of proposing, as I saw

Inga's eyes light up followed by a huge

gasp.

She nodded her head, too speechless to say

anything. Simultaneously, I felt sick to my

stomach. She hugged him and they began to

kiss surrounded by the applause of a few

tables near us who had been eavesdropping.

I, myself, was confounded in yet another

"WTF?" moment. Hannah displayed a look

of disgust on her face and then stormed

away from the table. I told Inga that I would

go check on her, but I doubt she realized due

to her preoccupancy.

I caught up with Hannah just outside on the

terrace. She had a cigarette in her mouth as

she dug through her purse.

"Allow me." She leaned in to me as I lit

her cigarette, then mine.

121
"Can you believe this - this shit!?" she

started.

"No... I can't...I had no idea Inga had a

boyfriend."

"I just don't see why she would even think

to marry this Stupo!" said Hannah with

frustration.

"I take it... you don't like him?"

"No! Of course not, he is an asshole! This

asshole is a spoiled brat and a drug addict.

He spends all of his parent's money on

drugs. I hate him." she said while exhaling

smoke.

"Ha, I can't believe it" she uttered as she

folded her arms and looked away.

"Well I don't understand why she would

want to be with him. Does she do drugs

too?"

"Huh...my sister? No. She stayed and

tried to help him. He is the only guy she's

ever been with. I'm so upset with her

because every time she leaves him, she goes

right back. I tell her that money isn't

everything; but no, she can't see that behind

all the gifts he buys her" she said while

shaking her head. "I am sorry Mel; I know

that you liked her. I should have told you

about him."

122
"Well, I have to admit that that didn't go

at all as I anticipated, but I'm cool. Besides,

I didn't exactly get the chance to develop

those feelings for her"—obviously lying

through my teeth.

I felt feelings for Inga the moment I

saw her. It's not so clear exactly what kind

of feelings they were; my libido was

overbearing at the time. Nevertheless, at the

moment I felt like the one guy from The

Last American Virgin movie that couldn't

get laid. Furthermore, the second she

accepted his proposal I could hear that sad

Just Once song by James Ingram playing in

my head.

In any capacity, I was experiencing

shortness of breath and this cigarette was

doing absolutely nothing for me, except for

perhaps making things worse. Honestly, I

seem to have the worst luck with girls as of

lately.

As I flicked my cigarette, up in the

distance a firework soared across the cold

night sky and then exploded in to a bright

flower of red and silver fireballs. Hannah,

still worked up, grabbed me by the hand.

"Come let's go!"

"Go where?" I asked.

123
"Don't worry, just come with me. If they

can celebrate we can too, no?"

We hopped into a cab just outside

the building, and took a ride downtown. Our

first stop was a small café, opposite the

clothing stores, that served cocktails.

"What would you like to drink? I pay for

the drinks tonight okay."

I was caught a little off guard so I just

agreed to have whatever she was drinking.

She leaned towards the girl behind the bar

and ordered. "Swei treffer mit Tequila bitte!

—Two shots of Tequila please!"

"Did you just order us Tequila shots?"

"Yes. Do you want something else?"

"No-no- that's fine. I'll drink whatever".

(My mind said no but my half broken heart

said fuck-yea!)

"We make a toast to my future retarded,

coke sniffing brother-in-law. Just kidding,

this is supposed to be your night. So this is

to you! I really appreciate you helping me

out with Emily. You will make a good

father someday. Hoist!!!!!"

She signaled the bartender for two more.

"Hold on a second! Don't you think we

should take it a little slower?" I insisted.

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"Ah come on Mel, you can't drink with a

woman?"

"It's not that, I'm just saying... I don't

want to have to clean your vomit off my

shoes" [protecting my ego]

"Relax. Drink these and then we will go to

someplace else, okay?"

I would have never guessed where we ended

up next. We walked around the corner up a

narrow cobble stoned street and towards a

brick building that casted a blue light

outside the doors.

It was a strip club. There was no line

out front so we walked right in. Hannah

seemed to know everyone. They would

greet her with hugs and kisses.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"I used to work here" she replied.

"Huh? You used to be a strip- I mean

exotic dancer?"

She smiled as she waved at one of the

dancers. "No, I was a waitress."

We took a seat at the front of the stage. A

waitress wearing lingerie came up to us and

took our order.

"Mel, what would you like?"

"I'll just stick with Tequila."

125
"SWEI TEQUILLA!" Hannah yelled over

the noise.

Hannah took out a wad of cash and tipped

the dancers on stage, generously. I could see

she was having a good time as the black

lights casted down on her face and caused

the white stripes in her dress to glow.

Moments later she walked towards me with

one of the dancers.

"Mel, this is my friend Janette."

"Hi, how are you?" Janette greeted me,

wearing nothing but a silver g-string.

Janette was my complexion, tall and slender

with red hair, dark round eyes, and full

looking breast.

She had a long flower tattoo that ran up

along her side, as well as an Ethiopian flag

tatted on her shoulder. I'd have to say she

was the prettiest dancer in the place by far.

"Hello, nice to meet you" I responded;

completely altering my mood.

She smiled and whispered something to

Hannah. They began to laugh in unison.

"What's so funny? I asked."

"Janette thinks you look like Kobe

Bryant."

"Huh? Really?"

126
"Oh don't worry you're cuter than Kobe",

Hannah replied. "Come with us to the party

in the back and bring your drink," said

Janette.

My curiosity grew with vigor as my

mind began to ponder. Slowly my buzz

started to work its way in. What kind of

party could be happening in the back of this

hole in the wall strip club?

The three of us continued to the back behind

a dark velvet curtain. I could smell hookah

smoke and Egyptian incense in the air. The

lights were now dimmed red. I remained

calm, but all the while I couldn't help but

think that this had to be a champagne room

for VIP. There were private booths with

suede furniture sectioned off and adjacent to

the room we were in.

Janette helped me take off my jacket

as Hannah directed me to a plush white

loveseat sofa in the corner. Hannah then sat

cater-cornered to me in a similar, but

smaller, chair and began smoking from a

hookah tube.

At this point I knew that one of us would be

receiving a lap dance. So hoping it was me.

Janette leaned over me slowly

gesturing my face in to her busty bosom.

127
She smelled of that baby powder scented

lotion that all the strippers in the states wore

to cover up any odors. Her skinned sparkled

with glitter specks. The song resonant in the

background was a slow song that I'd never

heard before, but the perfect song for Janette

to slow grind to. I looked over to observe

Hannah. She had now removed her jacket

and sat up straight with her legs crossed. I

could see a serene look of encouragement

on her face through the thin clouds of

smoke. She was definitely enjoying her

buzz. In fact, her stature resembled a queen

having her servant entertain a guest. She

continued to smoke from the hookah, and

watched as Janette snaked her naked body

across me; placing kisses on my neck. By

this time, the alcohol had transitioned itself

into my system quite nicely. As I came to

the point of arousal, my whack ass bladder

started to send those familiar signals again.

The song was nearly over, so I was

determined to hold it.

At the end of the song I tipped

Janette 20 Euros as I got up to go to the

restroom. She smiled and gave it back to me

and said hurry up back Kobe.

The restroom had a long trough-like urinal.

The wall was covered in Polaroid pictures of

128
strippers and flyers. As I set off for what

seemed to be the longest piss of my life, I

began to count the pictures. I got to 34 when

I came to a picture of Hannah holding a beer

mug and a serving tray. Her hair was shorter

and dyed red. The black lingerie outfit, she

had on revealed the curviness of her body.

She seemed a lot happier back then. I would

have taken the picture as a souvenir, but it

was too high to reach.

I returned to the so called

party/champagne room. To my astonish

Hannah was now sitting in the loveseat that

I was previously sitting in, and getting a lap

dance from two new women. I sat down in

the chair next to them and fired up the

hookah. The vibe was now enhanced to

second gear. This was like no lap dance I'd

ever seen before. They all moved as if they

were on ecstasy. [If only New York was this

exciting]

The girls kissed and breathed heavily on

Hannah's neck while rubbing and grinding

on her. Hannah opened her eyes, instantly

fixated on mine. For a minute I felt the need

to look away until, unexpectedly, one of the

girls slid down the strap of Hannah's dress

revealing one of her breast. Aware of her

129
exposure, she never broke her lustful eye

contact with me. I'd never been so inspired

in my whole life. This was surreal. I had

now entered the realm of voyeurism and

there was no turning back. The other girl

turned and looked at me with a smile on her

face, beckoning me to come over. Was this

my invitation to a ménage?

As I started to get up from my chair the song

came to an abrupt end and I could see the

regular lights come on beneath the velvet

curtain in the front.

Hannah fixed her dress back and put on her

jacket as she giggled and talked with the two

girls.

What a rip! I guess they could see the look

of disappointment on my face, which I tried

to hide. I put my jacket on as we bid

goodbye to Janette and the girls.

Outside, I laughed and conversed

with Hannah about what a fun and crazy

night it had been. She concurred, but

suggested we stop one more place.

As we walked back towards the train

station we stopped at the Weihnachtsmarkt

Christmas square near the outdoor skating

rink. It appeared completely different at

night. The festive décor and burning

130
Christmas lights brought a feeling of

warmth to the bitter midnight air.

Hannah had a surprise for me. She went up

to the lady working at the drink counter of a

small gazebo and ordered two drinks. She

then handed me a warm mug.

"What's this?" I asked

"It's called gluhwein. That means glow wine

in English. They warm the wine with

cinnamon and cloves, and then add amaretto

to it; try it."

I took a sip.

"Wow that's really hot!"—burning my

chapped lips

"Drink it slow. It's good, yes?"

"Oh yeah it's good...and strong."

"Come we can sit over on the bench. It's a

little cold out tonight, reminds me of

Moscow."

The wind blew furiously, sending a

chill our way and causing us to shiver and

take more sips of the "glow wine". I could

see Hannah's face starting to turn blue. I

gestured her to move closer and stretched

my arms offering the warmth from the

inside of my coat. Although, she felt pretty

warm as she stretched her legs to overlap

mine.

131
"Mel I have to tell you something", she

whispered low.

"What is it?"

"I'm drunk," she replied.

"Well yea I kind of figured that. We've

been drinking all night," I joked.

"No, I think I'm really drunk" she

laughed.

"So Hannah, I didn't know you could be

so fun."

"Why do you say that?"

"You sort of act a little cavalier around

me."

"Huh? What is this?"

"Well I guess what I mean to say is you're

usually kind of distant towards me, you

know... less warm."

"I am a nice person but I have to really get

to know someone before I can...um...be

open and really start to trust them. You

understand me?"

"Oh okay, well that makes sense. Do you

trust me now?" I asked.

"A little bit, but then again I am drunk"

she laughed.

She sat her glow wine down and

held on to me tighter clasping around my

132
sides. I could feel the cold tip of her nose

brush against my neck. Her alluring perfume

was starting to draw me closer. Normally I

would have been hesitant to make the first

move, but something about the situation

seemed too perfect to pass up. I slowly

turned to face her and instantly her lips met

mine. The kiss which started out simple and

innocent grew hot with fervor closely

followed by heavy breathing and caressing.

That one kiss numbed all of my

senses while not only stopping the wind

from blowing, but halting the cold all

together. A euphoric feeling swept over me

causing me to feel lighter; the feeling that

only a sensible dose of morphine could give.

Suddenly, Hannah stopped and looked

around. She then whispered "let's go back to

your hotel."

"TAXI!!!!" I shouted from the park bench.

The hotel was only three blocks south of us,

but I was on a time limit and if it meant

blowing a few Euros so be it. Hannah was

humored by my urgency but still maintained

a sense of eroticism in her eyes.

The cab pulled up and the second we

got in, we commenced were we left off.

Things undoubtedly started to heat up in the

133
back seat as she kissed on my neck and

nibbled on my ear. Twice we had to remind

the cab driver to watch the road.

At last, we arrived in the drive way of the

hotel. I couldn't believe how convenient this

hotel was. They could definitely expect

great reviews from me on trip planner. After

happily paying the fare I escorted her in.

The lights were dim yet lit enough for me to

find a path to the elevators.

The moment the elevator doors

closed, I grabbed Hannah and released the

most passionate kiss I'd ever given. It was

apparent she felt the spontaneity in it all, she

obliged by stripping me of my jacket and

unbuttoning my shirt without hesitation.

Even as the elevator doors opened at my

floor we remained inside, and I continued to

explore her soft lips.

The moment I stepped out from the elevator

I reached for my hotel key as if to insure

immediate entry. I slid the card key in the

slot and got a green light on the very first

try. It was definitely symbolic in the sense

that everything was a go. [But even if it

hadn't opened, the nearest ice machine room

would have done just fine.] Hannah jumped

in my arms kissing me even more lustful

134
than before as if we both were building up

towards shuttle launch. The motions caused

me to fall backwards to the bed. Without

delay I undid the clasp of her bra while she,

impatient with the last few buttons, ripped

my shirt off. I really couldn't believe what

was going on. Was this really happening? At

the beginning of the night, in no way had I

foresaw any of this.

She whispered in to my ear "do you

have a condom?" I reached in my back

pocket and responded "never leave the

country without 'em." As my hand inched

up her dress, she stopped me.

"Wait...I have to go to the restroom I'll be

right back!"

Why do girls always have to go to the

restroom the moment you're about to get it

on?

In the meantime I prepared the bed

to look more fitting for what was about to

go down. I then reached into my bag for a

few spritz of cologne, not too much though.

The toilet flushed.

"Oh please don't let her be sick, we need

this win" I said referring to me and my

counterpart.

135
Not one second later Hannah stepped

out of the bathroom, and instantly I froze.

Her body had me at attention like a soldier

at war. There she stood in nothing but a

white laced thong, smiling and showing her

body off. Just below her thong near her hip

was a tattoo of a red rose. Her tanned body

shimmered in the bright bathroom light,

almost making her appear somewhat

goddess-like. Regaining my sight, I began to

see that she had the body of a 25 year old.

Her breast upright and becoming yet supple,

her stomach lay flat and unseen, yet her

curves mind-blowing; her legs firm and tight

and to top it all off, her hair flowed loosely

contributing to her overall Amazonian

appearance. I rose to my feet to properly

greet her with a kiss.

First, I started at her lips then slowly

moved to her neck as I caressed her frame

and cupped her breast with my palm. She

then put her arms around me and we

proceeded to the bed, where I softly laid her

down. Her sweet fragrance was absolutely

mesmerizing. She aroused me just from the

look in her eyes. I started off patiently,

feeling every part of her body as my team

began to warm up.

136
Needless to say, I scored—several

times. Every enticing look she gave me,

kept me wanting more; and not for one

moment did she ever give way. This

remained the case for the next three hours. It

was apparent that we were literally going to

sex to death. Alas, I had to do what was

necessary; fake a cramp injury and call a

time out.

Hannah and I sat at the edge of my

hotel window nestled and wrapped in a

single sheet, sharing the last cigarette. We

just sat there smiling at each other, as either

of us hardly had any strength to move. But

every now and then she would lean down

and give me a kiss and tell me how bad she

needed that. In all the tranquility, my mind

slowly began to drift.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"There's something I've been wondering"

I began.

"What is it?"

"Why did you help me that night outside

the club? I know you were there conducting

business and all...but what made you decide

that you wanted to help me, a complete

stranger, and a half-naked passed out black

137
guy at that? I could have been a bad person

or simply up to no good."

"I'm a nurse. My job is to help people.

Besides, you reminded me of someone;

someone who had helped me when I was

your age...

"In my early twenties, I started waitressing

at the strip club at night and going to

nursing school at the day time. One night

after leaving the club, my girl called me to

pick her up from a hotel up near Canstatt.

When I got to the hotel I called her and she

told me where the room was located. I

waited in the car for her but she was taking a

long time so I called her again. Someone

answered the phone by accident and I heard

her scream HELP! I went up to the room

and there were three Albanian guys beating

her. I told them to leave her alone, and then

I began calling the police. They grabbed me

and tried to rape us with the door open. I can

remember screaming as loud as I could.

Some people even walked by and didn't do

anything. I slowly started to give up and

thought they were going to rape and beat us

to death. And then all of a sudden this young

guy ran in the room and jumped on two of

them. It was a black American soldier. His

friends came following behind him and they

138
saved us. His name was Private T. Jackson.

You kind of look like him. If it weren't for

his help we could have died that night.

Women get raped and killed here often.

Especially young women; which is why I

want to get Emily out of Germany and to a

nice place with good schools; somewhere in

the states."

As I watched Hannah talk and open up, I

felt really thankful to have met her. After

all, I could have frozen to death lying

outside of the club that night. As for the way

tonight went, she totally saved it from being

a complete bust. I was curious as to why

such an extraordinary woman was still

single.

"So how did you meet Emily's father?

Inga told me that he was a club owner."

"Gino...he would come to my work from

time to time; only to see me. At the time I

was still living in fear of the Albanian guys

that tried to rape us. Gino was really known

here and I felt safe with him. We started to

go out and one day he asked me to marry

him and...I said yes. I was only Inga's age.

Ha'... way too young. And like Inga, I

139
couldn't see just how broken our

relationship was."

"What do you mean by that?" I inquired.

"We were married for just two months and

he was arrested for drug smuggling. I was

pregnant with Emily at the time and so I

waited for four years visiting him often.

When he got out we tried to make things

work but he wouldn't leave the crime alone.

He was arrested a year later and this time I

didn't visit."

"Do you still speak with him?"

"Yes we still speak, but lately he's going

on my nerves. For two years I ask him for

divorce. He just signed the papers last week

and he has not seen his daughter in three

weeks."

[And I thought my relationship was bad.] I

could sense the frustration in her voice, as

her English started to get a little choppy. I

opted to change the topic.

"Are you working tomorrow?" I asked.

"No, I have the whole weekend off."

"Super, we can sleep in" I replied while

yawning uncontrollably.

"Come, we go to sleep" she said taking me

by the hand to help me up.

140
 Chapter 11

"W ake up my sleeping beauty" said

Hannah, fully dressed and sitting at the foot

of the bed.

"Huh? What time is it?" I said still a bit

hung-over.

"It's eleven o'clock. Good to see you're

not talking in your sleep anymore."

"Wait, I don't talk in my sleep. Do I?"

"The night I brought you home from the

club you kept calling yourself a beast in

your sleep."

"Ohhh"...I responded looking down in

embarrassment.

"But never mind, I have a surprise for

you."

"What is it?"

"No, I'm not telling yet, it's a surprise.

Close your eyes."

"Okay. It's not Christmas over here

already, is it?"

141
"No, just close your eyes and open your

hands" she demanded.

She placed an unwrapped box in my hands.

I opened my eyes. It was a digital camera.

"Wow. When did you get this?" I opened

the box to check it out.

"A little while ago, while you were

sleeping."

"Thanks." I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Is this so we can take naked pictures of

each other?"

"Huh? Why you thinking so dirty?"

"Hey, I don't know maybe you're in to

that", I teased.

"No silly, but I think maybe you will need

it."

"Why?"

"We're going to Munich this weekend."

"Really? Just me and you?"

"Yep, there are a lot of places we can visit.

People act a little bit different there but they

have really good food."

"Awesome, when do we leave?"

"Today at noon"

"What about Emily?"

"Inga will watch her until we get back."

"So I take it you spoke with her today."

"Yes."

142
"And how did that go? You didn't

mention...umm...you know?"

"Yes of course, we are sisters we talk

about everything. Don't worry she is good.

She wanted to apologize to you for last

night. Oh and she said she still wants you to

show her around in the states, or something

like that?"

"Hmm.......So everything is cool?" I

reiterated.

"Ja! it is; trust me it is a good idea that

I'm not around Klaus at this time. Me and

Inga both agree."

"Alright then"

"Come let us get ready."

That day we didn't waste any time.

We arrived in Munich, Germany at 2pm.

The weather wasn't as cold today, yet the

grayed out sky suggested rain. [Then again,

it always looked that way in Germany.]

Hannah suggested that it would be a

good idea if we tried the 2-day extended

package that included a night tour of

Munich. The tour would kick-off on the

outskirts of Munich and end back in the city

at The Olympic Park. It would commence

143
the next day at the market place and then out

toward the countryside.

The first site we visited was a

concentration camp called Dachau. And a

good thing that it was first, for I would have

never step one foot near this place at night.

Just the sight of the gate was eerie enough to

stop you in your tracks and turn you back

around.

As we approached the entrance, the

wind made an awful whistle through the

openings of its iron rods and barbed wire.

The water surrounding the camp stood half

frozen in the trenches. The grounds,

enormous as they were, lay cold and barren.

Outside the outer fence were backyards of a

later developed neighborhood; what brave

souls they were.

The closer we came to the main building I

could see that everything was set up like a

museum or memorial. A cast iron sculpture

hovered above the dates 1933-1945. There

were many scribed plaques written five

times over in different languages (this goes

to show the array of people imprisoned here

at one point). Everyone in the tour group

appeared to be desolate and silent, even the

children. That is, with the exception of

Hannah. She had more of an intriguing look

144
on her face. Like me, this was her first time

here as well.

The gravel shrieked from our

footsteps as we walked, which made me

imagine the hundreds of guards and

prisoners that walked the same grounds. The

more we walked and viewed the scenery, the

more I started to think what an incredible

waste of land this was and how depressing it

was to be here. Although the camp didn't

host executions it still reeked of hate and

nihilism. Fortunately, this part of the tour

was shortened on the count of rain.

The next part of the tour was a lot

less depressing. We trekked towards the

metropolitan area of Munich for the night

expedition. The closer we got to the city the

more the rain died down. Eventually, we

ended up at the Olympic Tower. It was

enormous and overlooked the city, which

was perhaps five times the size of Stuttgart,

and you could even spot the Swiss Alps

from the observation deck. Hannah and I

took a great deal of pictures of the

panoramic view.

Afterwards we enjoyed a quiet

dinner at a Bavarian restaurant near our

hotel, before retreating to our room.

145
"So how is the writing coming?" Hannah

inquired while turning down the bed.

"It's ok, I'm just undecided of where to

start first; you know, writer's block."

"Today, I didn't see you with anything to

write on. I thought writers carried a note pad

or maybe a recorder."

"Well yea but...I just don't have one with

me; Left it back in Stuttgart."

Hannah had an idle expression upon her

face.

Rather than trying to outwit or further

mislead her, I began telling her the truth

about my occupation in New York in its

entirety. She was a bit subdued when I

finished. And of course I expected her to be

upset, which was evident from the look that

she displayed. She then began speaking in a

tranquil manner.

"Listen Mel, I understand that you didn't

know me well enough to tell me that in the

beginning. I am that way myself, but I want

you to know that you don't have to lie to

me..."

"I know."

"Let me finish...but...I am also happy that

you trust me enough to tell me that", she

smiled. "I am also proud of you because

quitting your job takes a lot of courage. You

146
have to live for yourself, and if your job is

making you unhappy then you must leave"

she said shrugging her shoulders.

At that moment I realized that the

universe had bestowed upon me something I

was desperately in need of—a true friend.

I'd only known her a week, and yet her

sincerity and how she empathized with me

was incomparable.

"You're something else you know" I said

simply, then kissing her hand.

She smiled, then pressed my head to her

bosom and turned the lights down as we

retired to bed.

The following morning we set off early to

enjoy the last part of the tour. It mostly

consisted of the markets downtown and a

tour of the countryside. The countryside was

unlike the downtown square where people

mostly hung out in cafes and smoked

cigarettes, in fact there were hardly any

people at all. We visited the vineyards,

where Hannah taught me how to select the

best wines for any type of occasion. The

samples where all the more exhilarating.

To wrap up the tour, we visited two

castles that dated back to the 12th century. I

147
took plenty of pictures, but I was more

interested in the people that lived scattered

about in the surrounding areas. Most of

them were older and lived off of the land.

Not much had changed here over time,

which I imagined contributed to their overall

happiness. It was said that this area was

known for having the longest-living people

in the world. In fact, one castle was hosting

a couple's seventieth anniversary; which

deeply moved Hannah.

On the way back from Munich, we

stopped at the Cannstatter Festival, a

carnival just outside of the city. It was

located in the town of Bad Cannstatt, which

was home to one of the biggest distributors

of the famous Stuttgarter beer. Hannah was

amazingly fun. She wanted to ride every

ride, from the roller coasters to the pirate

ship, the Ferris wheel and even the swings.

She claimed to have not been to a carnival

since high school, and she vowed to bring

Emily here soon.

In all the excitement, we worked up

a hunger so we stopped at a food stand that

sold all types of hot dogs. In the middle of

eating my currywurst, I could hear a faint

level of bass coming from speakers in the

148
distance. I followed the sound, taking a

couple of steps in its direction. It was

coming from an enormous tent with a few

people waiting in line outside of it. I

assumed it was some sort of circus act

seeing that this was a carnival. Hannah

noticed my curiosity and asked me if I

wanted to go in.

"It doesn't matter" I responded, trying to

down play my interest.

"Come let's go," she said guiding me by

the hand.

The closer we got the louder the music was;

this time with the addition of cymbals. I

noticed that the people leaving the tent had a

cheerful smile on their faces. Some were

even chanting songs in German. As we

passed through the opening of the tent I

could see that this was no circus.

This was beer fest at its best; loud

music, over-flowing beer mugs, guys

wearing old-fashion overalls and gals

dressed in their St. Pauli girl outfits.

Together, they sang old drinking songs in a

drunken stupor on top of picnic tables as the

band on stage prepared for their next set.

There had to be over a thousand people in

this tent. It was the size of a football field.

149
Hannah and I sat at an empty picnic

table in the very back. The table was littered

with a host of various drinking games. The

drink menu was printed in old German so I

had Hannah order for me. I felt my bladder

was starting to spill over again so I excused

myself to search for a restroom.

I followed the signs to the back of

the tent where there stood about fifteen port-

a-johns, each with lines. To the left I saw a

man come from what looked like a small

trailer with a curtain. Inside were several

open stalls. [Perhaps some people actually

liked to wait in lines.] In any event I stood

there and let er' rip. At the moment it was

the closest thing to an orgasm. When I got

back to the table Hannah was there awaiting

me with liter mugs of beer—half of hers

already gone.

"Wow, how long was I gone? You were

pretty thirsty huh?"

She nodded her head yes, incapable of

speaking with her mouth full as she took a

big gulp from her mug.

"You have to catch up", she teased.

"You do remember what happened the last

time we did this", I reminded her.

"Enough talking, more drinking!"

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I was definitely up for the challenge. As I

removed my jacket, I thought I heard

someone yell my name above all the

commotion. I turned my attention towards

the stage; then back the other way--nothing.

I sat back down and gripped my beer mug

preparing to go to work.

"MELLL!" someone shouted.

I turned around and saw a skinny blonde-

haired girl walking towards me holding a

beer in one hand and the arm of a male

companion in the other. I couldn't believe it.

It was Sharnay from the flight over.

"Hey!" She released the guy's arm to

bestow a hug. "How are you? I thought I

lost you at the airport" she said with a look

of concern.

"I'm good...I see you made it out pretty

safe without me. Is this your boyfriend?" I

asked.

"Yes, this is my boyfriend Johan. Johan

this is Mel, you remember the guy I told you

helped me through customs."

"I love your hat man, GO YANKEES!"

He shouted as I shook his hand.

I then turned to introduce Hannah, whom

had a quiet puzzled look on her face. She

smiled and shook their hands.

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According to Sharnay, they'd just arrived

minutes ago and couldn't find any place to

sit. Hannah slid over and invited the couple

to sit with us. Oddly, her hospitality was

kind of a turn on. I smiled and sat down to

my beer.

We tried our best to engage in a normal

conversation over the thumping of the

speakers. Hannah spoke with Johan in

German off and on as I chatted with

Sharnay. This was the first time either of

them had been to beer fest although beer

was their favorite drink of choice. In fact

they seemed to be beer fanatics. They were

just as enthused about beer as the Italians

were with marijuana.

I could see that the conversation was

starting to bore Hannah. She would give me

a quaint look every now and then, glancing

down at my mug to remind me of the

challenge. I think she just wanted to get me

drunk so that, later this evening, things

would be as crazy as the first night we made

love. [And there was definitely nothing

wrong with that.] To shake things up and

make the night a little more interesting, I got

Sharnay's and Johan's attention.

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"So guys, before you came in Hannah and

I were just about to have a drinking contest.

Are you game?"

"HELLS YEA that sounds fun", said

Sharnay in her southern accent.

"Okay cool, well to make it fair we'll do

co-ed teams...Hannah and I against you

guys."

Hannah summoned me to the middle of the

picnic table as if to tell me a secret.

"Mel, you and me are going to drink the

same beer from here on, she said with a

smile."

I didn't really understand what she meant,

but complied anyway.

We ordered the first round and shortly

everyone started off with a fresh liter of

beer.

I took a sip. There was something different

about this beer she had ordered us. It was

less stout, but it tasted good nonetheless.

Exactly one hour later there were

fifteen empty liters scattered on our wooden

picnic table. The tent was spinning with

excitement. Most of the excitement was

from Sharnay who, at this time, was on

stage trying to sing a jazz song to a techno

beat. In the middle of her solo she started to

153
make out with a random girl from the

audience.

And by now, poor Johan was in one of the

various port-a-johns upchucking his dignity.

(That's assuming he chose not to wait in

line.) With the room looking like a bunch of

high-strung kids all zipped up on pixie stix

and energy drinks, I felt as calm as a box

turtle; so did Hannah. She looked at me very

subtly and smiled.

"Are you drunk?" I asked.

"Just a little", she replied.

"Do you want to go?"

"Sure...do you want to go?" She asked

with her eyes appearing more alert.

"Yea, let's get out of here."

We exited the tent and the lights of the

carnival lit up the dark night sky.

"Why aren't we as drunk as Sharnay and

Johan? I asked quite puzzled. "We definitely

had more to drink than they did."

"Ha, ha, ha"...Hannah began to laugh.

"What's funny?" I asked

"Nothing..." she said while giggling.

"Tell me, please I wanna know."

I began tickling her to make her confess.

"Okay okay I will tell you" she finally

cried out. "Our beer was mixed with Sprite."

"Huh? Are you serious?"

154
"Yes," she said laughing even harder.

"So you were going to cheat if we hadn't

been on teams?"

"Well just a little...but you're a man, you

can handle it."

"Oh please whatever." I continued to

tickle her until she screamed for mercy.

We walked back to the train station.

There was at least an hour before the train to

Haslach was to depart so we went to a

Japanese cafe and lounge across the street.

We sat in the back corner and looked on, as

it was karaoke night. The beer—weak as it

had been—began to stir up a little curiosity

within me. I was still curious about

Hannah's childhood and perhaps her

reasoning behind running away from home.

One by one I fired off my questions which,

in this case, proved to be just as stupid as

drunk dialing or drunk texting.

She told me horror tales of growing

up sheltered and isolated, as well as being

discriminated against in Moscow for having

dark hair and dark eyes. And although she

had arrived in Germany after the fall of the

Berlin Wall, not much had changed as far as

racism and classism went. Her reason for

155
migrating to Germany was even more

overwhelming.

"Inga was too young to remember, but our

parents did not die in a car accident. My

mother worked under a branch of the USSR

as a government researcher from Moscow.

My father was a Jewish physics teacher

from Spain. Things were... how you

say...tense in Russia at this time because the

cold war had not too long ended. Sadly, one

day they were condemned to be communist

spies and were sent off to be executed.

A childhood friend of my mother brought

me and Inga to Germany to live with her

mother, whom we called our grandmother.

Hannah and Inga aren't even our real birth

names. These are typical German names so

that no one would come after us."

"So what are your real names?" I asked.

"I am Onya Zukov and Inga is Vicktoriya

Zukov. She is the only real family I have

left."

The look on Hannah's face was very

grim; it almost seemed as if she wanted

revenge. I could see the water that filled her

eyes refusing to be released as she gazed off

in the opposite direction. Again I felt at a

loss for words in light of these new

156
shocking set of details. I quickly came to

understand the rationale for her disposition.

One had to be tough in order to endure such

trauma at a young age.

Up until now, all of my life I've felt

like I was at a disadvantage when it came to

women. I felt as if I were looking into a one-

way mirror. That is to say that no matter

how hard I tried, I could never see beyond

the glass to the actual person that was

staring straight at me; observing every flaw

I possessed, every imperfection, every

obscurity in which I tried to keep hidden.

But now I was on the other side of that

mirror looking in, discerned with the

tangibleness of Hannah's pain.

It was apparent now that she trusted

me and deep down I valued that. So

naturally, there was a part of me that

absolutely hated to see her like this. It was

up to me to reverse the effects of the can of

worms I, regrettably, opened.

Suddenly, I had an epiphany. I knew what I

had to do to cheer her up. I excused myself

from the table to go to the restroom. When

Hannah wasn't looking I sneaked over to the

karaoke stand to sign up for a song. This

was a stretch for me seeing that I was the

157
worst singer on the planet, and highly

suffered from stage fright.

I couldn't make out any of the songs

in the book so I just told the karaoke deejay

to plug me in to any Michael Jackson song.

Looking out from the stage I counted only

eight people. Now I knew I could make a

complete ass of myself without hesitating.

The song I picked started to play so I

stepped up to the microphone and cleared

my throat.

"This song is dedicated to a very special

young lady named Hannah."

Hannah then looked up from her drinking

glass and saw me. She had the "what are

you doing" look on her face. I began singing

the chorus at the beginning but as the verses

started to pour across the monitor, I was

lost. This had to be the one Michael Jackson

song that I didn't know. I could see that I

was losing her attention so I gave up on

singing and tried my best MJ impersonation.

From the corner of my eye while perfecting

my spin on stage I could see Hannah

whistling and jamming along in the corner.

The crowd backed her up. She even pulled

out a few Euros and waved them in the air.

158
As the song wrapped up I was out of breath

and my crotch ached from grabbing it thirty

six times.

"Good job Mr. Jackson", said Hannah

applauding as I walked towards her. She

couldn't stop laughing hysterically. I'd have

to say, the smile on her face was absolutely

worth me making an ass out of myself.

We grabbed our things and headed

back to the train station. After the train

departed, I noticed that we were the only

passengers on our train car. I took this as an

opportunity to see if Hannah wanted to fool

around for a bit. To my surprise she was up

for it. Suddenly the train approached the

next stop and the conductor helped a young

lady load her bike on from the platform. At

that point, we decided to wait until the coast

was clear but ultimately just ended up

falling asleep.

Hannah and I arrived back in

Haslach feeling refreshed. Earlier, Inga had

dropped Emily off at her friend's house to

stay the night, before heading back to Koln.

We had the place all to ourselves, so we

eagerly began from where we left off.

Afterwards, I held Hannah in my arms as

she slept. I was unable to, as I reminisced

159
over the incredibly extravagant events from

the past weekend.

I couldn't help but feel invigorated

and my life rejuvenated. Being afforded the

luxury to make love to a beautiful woman

all night until the wee hours of the morning;

it was unreal to me. Often, I'd felt the need

to pinch myself to make sure it was really

happening and not just some super vivid

dream. Surreal as it seemed, I realized that

somehow I was living proof that it was

possible to start an entirely different life.

But would it last? And if so, how long

would it be before my past life caught up

with me? To answer that question, not long

at all.

160
 Chapter 12

The following Tuesday morning, I

received an urgent message. It was from my

grandfather. I called him back right away,

not frantic but unsure of what had happened.

My grandmother had slipped and fell on

some ice outside their home in Albany. She

was hospitalized overnight and had just

returned home. Luckily, she hadn't fractured

anything. He asked me if I could come to

see her. I didn't feel like lying so I told him

where I was and the whole story behind it,

but somehow I think he already knew.

"You know your mom has been worried

about you Mel."

"I think she's a little more concerned with

Jeff's wedding right now gramps" I replied.

He then proceeded in one of his nobility

talks, which always left me feeling guilty

and foolish in the end.

"That's not true and you know it. Your

mother just wants to make sure you're able

161
to take care of yourself son. Listen to me

when I tell ya that this world is somethin'

else. Nobody cares about anybody out here.

Everybody wants what's in their best

interest. People are selfish and that's how

it's always been."

"Yea, I know gramps, but...

"Mel, I'm not trying to chastise you but

I'm giving you knowledge that you

wouldn't obtain until you're at least forty

years old."

I sighed.

"We care about you son, and that's why

it's so important not to shut your family out

of your life. Your family will be here for

you when no one else is. I understand your

frustrations about not having a job. You're a

man with your own money and if you want

to travel around the world that's great.

You're young you should—but you don't do

it like this. At least let your family know

something. We worry about you because we

love you." [I wanted to interject, and state

that I'd left a message on twitter concerning

my whereabouts—but knew better.]

My grandfather has always been a

wise voice within the family. He and my

grandmother practically raised me and Jeff

as their sons. To hear the worry in his voice

162
unsettled my conscious. Pressed on seeing

me in time for Thanksgiving, he offered to

pay for my flight back home. But out of

guilt, I couldn't accept it. Instead I told him

I'd already purchased a ticket to fly back

this upcoming Friday. I hated lying to him

but I felt this resolution would be equally

gratifying (at least for the moment).

Returning to Hannah's room I

discovered that she'd left her id on the

nightstand. Below her photo was her birth

date. It read November 20, 1969. She was

turning 40 in a couple of days. I couldn't

believe it. Although I wish it hadn't, this

gave me a lot to think about.

Later that day, we rented a few

German movies with American subtitles.

This was in reward for Emily making a

ninety percent on her school exam.

It was the perfect movie setting with

popcorn and soft drinks, which created a

stimulating family environment. The films

we watched would ordinarily peak my

interest, but for some reason I couldn't bear

any concentration. My mind was boggled

and occupied with an orchestra of thoughts

that made no sense.

163
I almost felt as if I were coming down with

Scarlett Fever (for this would certainly

account for some of the ambiguity I was left

with). Frequent and sporadic, my thoughts

began charting off in different directions...

The timing of everything happening

in my life seemed to be a bit off. The days

were short and the nights even shorter. It felt

like just the other day I was studying hard

for finals in my last semester of college. But

in actuality, five years had passed since

then. I had come to realize what the older

heads really meant by "enjoying life while

you're still young". It seems that when you

reach a certain period in your life, time

begins to increase at an unbelievable paste. I

wondered, if this was to remain the case,

then how much time would I actually have

to enjoy with Hannah? She was turning 40,

which left a 13 year age gap between us.

It had only been a week and a half

since I'd met her, and already I was

contemplating spending the rest of my life

with her. Perhaps it was just infatuation, or

perhaps she'd cast some sort of spell on me

which I was unaware of, but nevertheless I

was captivated. When it came down to it,

she was the total package.

164
She was keen on every subject we

ever talked about and exhibited my favorite

qualities in a woman. She was outgoing and

fun, genuine, and not to mention strikingly

good-looking. Certainly three times the

lady; and come to think of it I was a better

person around her. I'd cut back on smoking

and swearing. And up until now, my anxiety

and stress level was the lowest it's ever

been.

Although she never spoke on her

feelings towards me, I could most definitely

sense them at times. Was I falling in love?

I surely was in need of some sort of sign that

I was making the right decision by going

home. I knew that Hannah would be upset if

I told her that I was leaving come Friday.

She'd been reminding me of her birthday

every day for the past week. Even more,

making me promise to come to her party; I

felt I had to tell her at some point...

The erratic thoughts roaming about

in my head must have somehow altered my

appearance; Hannah saw that something was

troubling me.

"Mel, are you alright?"

I suddenly came to, as if awakened from a

trance state. Holding my hand, she looked

165
upon me with worry. Again she asked, "Are

you alright?"

Still battling with my thoughts, I simply

nodded...and finally uttered "just a little

tired."

Hannah walked with me up to the bedroom.

She then got Emily all ready for bed and

shortly returned to my side.

The next morning I was slow to rise.

Hannah and Emily had already left for work

and school. I truly felt as if I was coming

down with something. Whatever it was I

didn't want to give it to Hannah or Emily so

I searched the medicine cabinet for cold

medicine. I couldn't make out what

anything was. It was all scribed in German.

Not recognizing any familiar words,

ultimately I decided to desist.

Nonetheless I still had to do something

about the cold that was creeping up on me.

To my luck the kitchen offered greater

options. I ate a few oranges and prepared

some hot tea. I sat down to watch some

British news.

The Royal Duchess was being accused of

selling access to her ex-husband, the Prince.

166
I noticed that scandals here in Europe were

as common as scandals in the western part

of the world. The tea started to make me

drowsy. Thereafter, I quickly doze off.

When I awakened I saw that the time was

now 1 o'clock and I knew that Emily would

soon be getting out of school. I rushed to get

dressed, making sure to wrap up with extra

layers. Outside, a snow storm was

underway.

When I arrived at Emily's school she

was already waiting near the shrubs out

front, talking with her friends.

On the walk home we passed an old man

with a cardboard box filled with puppies.

Emily's eyes lit up and she dashed towards

them. She began asking the old man a

hundred questions, including could she hold

one. Right away I figured this to be a big

mistake because the next question would be

directed towards me on whether or not she

could have one to take home.

"Okay Emily let's go now, your mom's on

her way to the house to meet us"—I said

trying to quickly advert her.

167
"Oh Mel he is soooo cute. I love him, and

look at this one" she picked up another now

holding two pups like infants.

The mother of the pups rose to her feet. She

then released a low terrible growl that began

to escalate.

"Emily I think you should put them back

now alright. The momma's getting a little

upset. Come, let's go."

The old man walked towards me sounding

off prices, trying to get me to buy one.

Before I knew it, I heard Emily belt out a

heartbreaking scream.

I pushed the old man aside to get to her. The

mother had lunged at her leg and was

shaking the cuff of her pants viciously.

Without thinking I reached down and

grabbed Emily to pull her away but the

dog's grasp was still too strong. The old

man started yelling at it and prying its

mouth open with his hands. I then lifted

Emily up as high as I could and suddenly

the bottom of her pants leg ripped, at the

same time freeing her. When I turned away

the dog then proceeded to claw at my leg

and repeatedly jumped at my side to get to

her. Finally, the old man grabbed a hold on

to its collar with both hands.

168
I carried Emily away to the

McDonalds next door to examine her leg.

She had stopped crying but was still shaken

up leading her to hyperventilate. Luckily

there was only a small scratch near her

ankle. I tried my best to calm her down as

everyone started to look at us. I surely didn't

want to give anyone the impression that I

was harming her.

A lady that worked behind the

counter approached us with a bottle of

water. I thanked her and slowly Emily began

to catch her breath. I called Hannah at work

and told her what happened, and then let her

speak with Emily. She told us to stay there

until she came with the car because of the

snow storm in the midst. In the meantime, I

ordered her a happy meal. I figured she

wouldn't be hungry with what just happened

and all, but maybe if she played with the toy

it would take her mind off of it. I glanced

outside and noticed snow flurries beginning

to fall.

Hannah arrived about 20 minutes

later. She rushed in to take a look at Emily.

She then picked her up and gave me the

keys to the car.

169
That evening Hannah spent most of

her time on the phone. I had no idea what

her conversations were about because they

contained a mixture of German and Russian.

Emily and I watched episodes of Sponge

Bob until she fell asleep.

Hannah and I spoke that night, and

though it might have been poor timing, I

explained my situation to her. When I

finished, she then contested that if my

leaving was about the dog incident from

earlier today that she in no way blamed me

for what happened. I assured her it wasn't.

Ultimately, she said that she was cool with it

and knew that I had to leave at some point.

The whole conversation she never

smiled and I could see the anger and

frustration in her face and body language.

The last thing I wanted to do was cause her

more stress.

I started to think about all that she

had done for me in the past few weeks. I

didn't have too many people back in New

York that would have done any of this for

me. But what was I to do? If I left I'd feel

selfish and consequently if I stayed I'd feel

selfish. It was a never ending struggle. That

night we didn't make love or even speak

much the following morning.

170
 Chapter 13

The night before, I started to pack

my things but couldn't finish because of the

remorse surrounding me. The weather

outside was pretty shitty, which depicted

exactly how I felt.

While continuing to pack I came across half

a pack of cigarettes in my jacket. Amazingly

it had been an entire week since I last had

one. I took one from the pack and as I

brought it to my lips, something about it just

didn't feel the same. Somehow I came to the

conclusion that no cigarette could make me

feel better about leaving.

The time had come for me to say my

goodbyes and although I could see the

disappointment in Hannah's eyes, deep

down I could see she understood. I pleaded

with her to let me take the train to the

airport. I couldn't bear to cause her

inconvenience on her birthday. Emily

171
grabbed a hold of my leg and cried. I

promised to come back and visit her.

"I don't want you to leave", she repeated

over and over. A tear came inching near the

corner of my eye, but I refused to let it fall.

This was to ensure them of how serious I

was about coming back to visit again.

"Listen Emily, I will always remember the

fun times we had ice skating and singing

Christmas songs together. When I come

back next year we can do it all over again.

Don't worry I'll be back. When you want to

talk to me just ask your mom to call me.

Study hard and keep your grades up. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Be a good girl and listen to your mom."

"I will."

I looked up at Hannah. The look on her face

was a tossup between sad and angry. I gave

her a hug and she told me to take good care

of myself and to call when I made it home.

As I boarded the train, I couldn't help but

feel a wave of grief fall over me. Was I

making the right decision?

Shortly I arrived at the airport. Upon

entering the terminal I walked towards the

flight schedule display. Next to me was a

little girl playing with her Sponge Bob toy.

172
Her father smiled at her as he held her hand;

the mother stood next to him interlocking

arms. Even with the lines jammed packed

and the list of numerous cancelled flights

due to the weather, they still seemed so

happy to be getting on the airplane together.

Next, the unexpected occurred. The

man said to the little girl "Kommen. Laßt

uns gehen Hannah—Come. Let's go

Hannah." The sound of her name resonated

in my ear over and over again. It was clear

to me that I had unfinished business. I had to

go back and let her know how I felt. At

once, I left the airport and hopped back on

the train headed back in the direction of

Haslach.

173
 Chapter 14

I arrived back at Hannah's

house no one was home. I suspected that

she'd already left for the party. I left my

bags and headed to the club. Indeed, I

neglected to call her and decided to surprise

her instead.

On the way over, I replayed the

scenario over and over in my head. In detail

I imagined what I would say, as well as how

she would respond. Although the more I

said it aloud, the more rehearsed and

insincere it sounded. Eventually, I just

decided to wing it and speak from the heart.

I arrived at the club in good time. It

was half past nine. The club was just as I

remembered, but with less crazy shit going

on. [But then again, it was still early.] I

walked up the stairs into the main hall, and

then quickly spotted Hannah's face in the

Mezzanine amongst the party decorations.

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When
The closer I walked towards her the more of

a euphoric feeling swept over me.

Suddenly, I was stopped in my

tracks by an oversized Neanderthal wearing

all black. It was the same bouncer I'd

recognized from the last time I was here. He

had scratches on the side of his dome-sized

cranium and a bruise on the left side of his

cheek and for some reason he didn't seem

happy to see me again. Did he remember me

from the fight? Was I about to be thrown out

for something that happened weeks ago?

Perhaps more importantly, could he have

been the one that nearly broke my fist with

his face bone? As much as I wanted to, I

couldn't blame this one on the alcohol and

have all forgiven. I quickly decided to turn

and head the opposite way, but I was soon

greeted by yet another security figure near

the entrance staring coldly at me. Then

another on the wall to my left, and by this

time they were starting to close in on me.

"Fuck!"

Plainly, I felt like there was nothing I could

do, so I began sending an SOS text to

Hannah as they came rushing in towards me.

Two of them grabbed both of my arms as if

to escort me out quickly without causing a

scene.

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"Bitte kommen Sie doch mit uns!—Please

come with us!" they said.

They led me to a side door that I hoped

would be an exit outside but it wasn't. It was

a long and dark dusty corridor filled with

storage items. As my heart raced unsteadily,

I thought to myself this is it. The end is

near. I could see the headlines now, 'A

young American man found shot dead in the

dumpster of an alley....and he shitted on

himself too'.

As we walked closer to the end of the

corridor I felt a boost of moral filled with

positive but destructive thoughts like going

out in a blaze of glory, or at least severely

hurting someone. Perhaps, I would find

some kind of object to gouge out an eye or a

jugular. I had to think fast because we were

almost near the end of the hall.

"What's this about? Where are you taking

me?"

No answer.

"I'm seriously going to fuck somebody up

if you don't let me go!" I shouted. Still no

response.

The door opened and in they flung

me towards a sofa chair while they stood

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near the door as if to make sure nobody

entered and nobody left. In this room, there

was a small office with a desk containing

security monitors and a television mounted

on the wall. Another man stood near the

desk and spoke off in the direction of the

wall on a Bluetooth. He was bald and had a

small hoop earring. From the gray trimming

of his beard, I presumed he was at least fifty

or so. He wore a silver shirt with a tailored

suit and he was closer to my size, maybe

shorter. Naturally, if worst came to worst, I

figured he'd be a lot easier to take down. I

began planning my assault, browsing the

room for things to use as weapons and

possible escape routes. No weapons were in

plain view but there was a door behind the

desk; with my luck it was probably a closet.

The tailored suit man, whom I assumed was

their boss, started to wrap up his

conversation. He then turned his attention to

me.

"Hello, how are you?" He asked in a

heavy foreign accent.

I quickly stood.

"Please sit!" He said pointing with an

open hand.

I took a look at the bouncer, who was now

facing me. I sat down.

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"Why am I here?" I asked.

"I don't know. Why are you here? Or

should I say: why are you back?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Don't fucking play with me! I have you

and your friends on the camera destroying

my club!" he shouted.

He sat down at the edge of the desk

and turned the television on to reveal me

and the Italians on tape fighting. Luckily,

the person that I'd hit wasn't the bouncer.

The quality of the tape was so poor that I

could easily dispute these accusations, but

then again I was probably the only black

person there that night.

"Who is going to pay for this damage?

HUH!?" he shouted.

"I mean, how much is the bill?" I asked.

[As if I could barter my way out of the

situation.]

"Listen to me and listen good. I run a

clean business and I don't like American

trouble makers coming in and FUCKING IT

UP" he yelled followed by some sort of

swearing in another language.

All of a sudden, the closet door

opened and in walked a short figure

wrapped in a throw blanket. I made it out to

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be none other than Emily. Her eyes grew

large and marbled at the sight of me.

"MEL!!!" she yelled as she ran towards

me. The man rose to his feet and the

bouncers started towards me with fury. I

quickly put my hands in the air and stood

back.

"Wait! Wait!" The man called them back.

He had a very confused look on his face. He

then spoke German with Emily. Suddenly, it

dawned on me; this was Emily's father,

Gino.

They looked nothing alike.

"Are you her tutor?" he asked.

Before I could respond there was a knock at

the door. The bouncers braced themselves as

they turned to open it.

Suddenly, Hannah walked in,

pushing one of them aside as she passed

through. I noticed a slight shock in her upon

seeing me standing there with my hands up.

She walked furiously towards the man in the

tailored suit and began shouting at him in

German while pointing at me and Emily.

She resembled an angry parent that'd just

discovered someone having done wrong to

her children. "Put your hands down Mel",

she instructed me. Her face was completely

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red and her veins appeared to be popping

out from her neck.

I felt very much vindicated by Emily

and Hannah's rescue. The man came

towards me and apologized in a tone less

threatening than before. Aside, he shook my

hand and also thanked me for saving Emily

from the dog attack a couple of days ago. He

then picked Emily up and told me that he

was on his way out of the office to take her

home when one of his guys spotted me. As I

started to apologize for that night, he told

me not to worry about anything. In fact, he

stated that if there was anything that I

needed, to just ask Hannah because it was

her club tonight. We bid him and Emily

well. Hannah took my hand as we headed

back to her party. Just looking at how pretty

she looked tonight made me forget about

everything that had just happened

completely. The moment we got to the other

end of the corridor, I stopped to face

Hannah. I tried desperately to recall what I

wanted to say to her, but I was too distracted

by her beauty.

Instinctively, I grasped her in my arms and

eagerly kissed her up against the door. At

the first pause to catch her breath, she

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rewarded me with that billion dollar smile of

hers.

"Happy Birthday", I whispered.

"I missed you too", she replied.

We rejoined the party where I was

introduced to some new friends of hers as

well as some I'd remembered from the strip

club. Happily, we all danced and partied

throughout the rest of the night with

champagne overflowing our glasses. As I

basked in the moment, this time I made it a

point not to black out.

The next day we picked Emily up from her

father's place and spent the whole day at the

carnival in Bad Canstatt. She had a great

time. We all had a great time.

Alas, all that came to an end as

Sunday came too soon and it was time for

me to set off back to the states to fulfill

another promise. Contrary to Friday, it was

actually a nice day for flying.

This time I elected to let Hannah

drive me to the airport. She even sat and

chatted with me until my flight was set to

board.

"I have something for you." She handed

me a small package.

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"What's this?" As I began to unwrap it she

told me to open it on the plane.

"It is from me and Emily."

The intercom chimed and stated that my

flight was now boarding. Hannah walked

with me towards my gate while holding my

hand. I stopped and turned to face her one

last time. I could see her eyes begin to water

as her grin became a full-fledged smile.

"You won't forget me, will you?" she

asked softly, with her fingers at the tip of

my chin.

"Of course not, and I better see you next

year! Or else I'm going to hunt you down" I

responded.

She gave me a great big hug, squeezing me

tighter than I'd ever been squeezed before.

Out of sheer reflex I kissed her lips avidly as

if this was really the last time I'd ever see

her again. My mind interrupted, signaling

me to cease before I reached the point of

never being able to let go. As I turned and

entered security check point I could feel her

watching me as I walked away. I wanted to

turn and look back, but didn't in fear of

seeing her cry, which would only in turn

cause me to cry.

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Seated on the airplane, I found

myself in a daze staring out the window

with a million questions running through my

mind. All of which were concerning Hannah

and Emily. Questions like: Would she really

come to the states? Did she even feel about

me the same way I her? Would this be the

last time I ever saw her? I even imagined

myself storming off of the plane and

running back to the terminal hoping she'd

still be there waiting at the gate like in the

movies. Surely she'd still be there, right?

The intensity of my thoughts were soon

disrupted by the boisterous plane turbines

and the fasten safety belt queue.

After takeoff, all of the thoughts

continued to cloud my head again. I couldn't

bare it any longer so I reached into my bag

for the sleeping pills I'd purchased and

came across the package from Hannah. I

gently opened the wrapping. Inside was a

nice leather journal the size of my hand. I

opened it to find a picture tucked in the

inside of the cover.

The picture was of me, Hannah and

Emily that we took at the Schwaben Galerie.

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The back of it read:

Mel (my beast),

The picture is so you will remember

what we look like when we come to visit you

in the states lol. The journal is for your

writing. Promise me you will not give up on

your dreams. You are truly an amazing

person.

Love, Hannah and Emily

P.S. I love you :)

I smiled as a tear streamed the length

of my cheek. It was then, I finally

understood what Andre the bartender meant

by abiding by the LLC. Instantly my mind

was free of all worries and doubts. I had a

strong feeling that everything would be

alright. I grasped my pen, opened the

journal and began to write.

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 About the book

Gone to Europe, Leave a Message originally

started as a playwright. As the main

character began to emerge throughout the

different settings, I saw it better fit as a

book.

The inspiration for this book comes from

that defining time in one's life where change

is inevitable. An overwhelming majority of

quote on quote "successful" people go

through hard times and are left with not so

much as a clue with what to do with their

life. Some turn to religion and consulship

for guidance, and others tend to seek more

unconventional methods (myself included).

The main character depicts a most realistic

occurrence. His life is filled with various

challenges, as well as self inflicted doubts in

which he must overcome. When he puts his

fears aside and decides to take a chance on

life, great things happen. I believe this to be

a true testament of numerous individuals

that have, perhaps, faced similar dilemmas.

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Coming Soon:

The District

The Cherry Blossom Effect

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 The District (preview)

Chapter 1

I once had it all... the mansion, the

cars, the women...the entire fucking city...I

owned it. And the funny thing is...I always

thought there was no possibility of ever

losing it, but needless to say there was. So

how did this tragic fall from grace occur?

It all began at the Blues Speakeasy

Tavern, summer of 1965 in Georgetown.

The famous Italian mobster, Benny the Boa

Constrictor was in town from New York

conducting the usual business. You know,

threatening night clubs and hustlers for a

percentage of their earnings and expanding

his territory. Meanwhile, my father was also

there visiting his childhood hero, the

legendary jazz musician Dizzy Gillespie.

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At the intermission, my old man

stepped out into the alley way to smoke a

cig. It was then he noticed a few men

abusing some helpless broad. Being the

statesman and upright citizen that he was, he

went to her aid. Tragically, I lost my father

that night.

The next morning I was awakened

by a shriek that could have wakened the

dead. I'd never in my life heard or seen my

mother so torn and distraught. I rushed

down stairs in my G.I. Joe PJs to discover

her wallowing in grief knelt down on the

floor as the police stood on the other side of

the storm door.

Supposedly, the police got a distress

call from the club the night before. Outside

of the club, they discovered my father with a

knife wound to the stomach. The murder

weapon had been found behind a dumpster.

Martha Greenwood, a co-worker of my

mother, was there that night and had

witnessed Benny personally stab my old

man with the knife. The news spread like

wild fire throughout the district. The case

was immediately brought to trial.

After Kennedy's assassination, the

federal juries were a lot harsher in cases that

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involved the killing of government officials;

my father just so happened to be on the city

council and in the midst of running for

council chairman.

In addition to Martha's testimony,

the prosecutor had an overwhelming amount

of evidence against Benny. All of a sudden,

Benny the Boa Constrictor turned Benny the

rat. He began snitching on every cop he'd

ever paid off. Thanks to Martha's testimony

he was found guilty on all counts and

sentenced to 28 years in federal prison. My

mother was awarded treble damages totaling

1.2 million dollars. How could a black

woman receive so much back in those days?

That's just it—she wasn't black.

My mother was a white woman from

Paris, France. That's where she'd met my

father on the way back from his tour of duty

in North Vietnam. According to her, when

they met it was amour at first sight. My

mother never loved any man more than she

loved my father.

So now I suppose you're thinking I

inherited this great sum of money; not the

case. Believe it or not, she actually gave it to

me when I turned 16. She no longer wanted

it after she discovered that the night my

father was killed, he wasn't there alone. He

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and Martha Greenwood were there together,

on a date.

One day while cleaning out my

father's liquor cabinet, she opened a cedar

cigar box and found a series of love letters,

all from Martha. From that moment on she

was never the same and nothing mattered to

her, not even me. She died a year later from

an over dose of sleeping pills.

I was in a catholic school at the time.

Being an only child and left with no one to

look after me, I practically had to raise

myself, but through trial and error so to

speak. A young black man equipped with

what some might call a fortune, growing up

in the 70's era; I did what any rebellious and

easily inspired teenager would have done at

that time.

For more information on the author and other

works visit BrandonSinclair.com

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