Short nights - reading sample
Perfect! Matze is in the door. When he sees me he waves me past the paying serpent and I stare awkwardly at him in passing, grinning my happy thanks in his petrified barker's visage. (Only sometimes I catch him bending his mouth upwards - only for a millisecond, but I already caught him!) After I have left my clothes at the jumbled wardrobe, I get my beer over the counter in the Hand pressed and no gaze is appreciated.
As always, I took it as a beaming joy, as if it were the first time, to cheer my patron with this heavy tankard and now go to my landing in front of the dance floor. Before I sit down, I smile again at the Mister DJ under his headphones, he nods and smiles back. That's it now: my beloved wordless welcome process in Kaffee Burger. Hach, am I not blingbling? And by the way also saved 7.50 euros! Almost my daily rate to life! How funny that they roll out the red carpet for a Hartz IV Eva.
So I sit down on my landing and stare dully and my beer süffelnd the people standing around the dance floor. As always, no one dares to do it. I suppose that I got my VIP treatment for this job, the dance floor, or I just belong to the inventory. What do I know. Cool, that's why Rocco is going to hang up today, so soon I can start my unofficial mission. Dance! That's why I'm here. I'm looking forward to giving myself the edge, dancing away my stupid brain and falling to bed completely exhausted. That's the plan and it was easy and just awesome.
For a while I look at the people around the dance floor. No guy here who could blow me away. But there's a girl running around here who has star qualities ... and that fairy is sitting right next to me, asking for a cigarette, looking at me a couple of seconds too long and smiling. And how she smiles. Holla, the forest fairy! How bold, how perky. "Do you like the music?" She asks me. "I do not like this song."
"Me neither," she replies, but then jumps up, grabs the dorky guy she introduces to me as Max and pulls him and a few other people she seems to know onto the empty dance floor. She throws herself at Moppel-Max's neck, but I do not take that show away from her. He's not her type at all. Such girls are on alpha males, but maybe they are also Buddelkistenfreunde, what do I know ...
Meanwhile, I'm enjoying her tight and well-cut denim skirt, her long beautiful and damn naked legs again, stuck in ankle-high hoe boots. A white fitted blouse tucks up around it. Well, that's just coming from work. I also notice that their homies make real office stallions and mares, let alone how they cheer on the dancers now. Urgs - the work world is in my fun time next to me in the burger and is the after-work party after a successful meeting or a finally got hold of millions order.
So I prefer to turn back to this fairy and her pretty crunchy butt and of course her legs ... and she also dances quite well, I think, only Max, who rushes on her office colleague, which does not fit so well into this Picture in front of my nose and when the next song begins, she actually comes to me and asks if she could ask me to dance then. And as she can.
We do not even touch each other while dancing, just whirring around each other with a smile. But our movements harmonize quite well, and sometimes it comes to body contact. Soon there will be a type grape around us, some sakkoträger want ... What? One dances towards her in the back and one with me tries to lure me around until it gets too colorful for us and we girls embrace each other - nobody comes in between. Our courtship dance is now really fun, with these Lechzern around us, and then she tells me in the ear, that she would probably have fished the best dancer of the evening. I smile at her and hug her. Yes exactly! You have sweetness ... thank you for your sweetie! I already thought it was delicious and I could imagine kissing it and dancing like we do now ...
We're dancing pretty hot right now. Her thigh between my two, horny, and now and then we dance cheek to cheek. I grab her neck, into her hair, she smells good, laughs provocatively, encouraging, but ... I can feel that she is also unsure. In the end I'm not clear enough.Not that I do not know what to do (now and then I kiss a girl on the dance floor), but because I basically do not feel like coming any closer to her. Because I do not feel like the situation in this store after the kiss. The evening is still young and we would just run into each other again and then? This coquettish grin and the umeinan-the-fuss ... that would overwhelm me today completely.
So I give her a kiss on the cheek, bow down like a cavalier and sit down in my place. It does not take long, someone is sitting next to me again and someday, just like that, without having exchanged a word, invites me to a drink. Do I want to run a bought small talk now? Still, I'm not drunk enough that I just take the glass and let the man stand, if he had ever intended to write me. Not all drink and Ziga-save donors necessarily expect a return for it. Actually, I find him not uninteresting, his posture I like what he has and his oblique pony in the face, but he is too young ... and if I have not kissed the girl, then he has so absolutely no Chance, nothing at all ... just not a good company today. Not really.
Brain or body contact would only throw me back on myself and, dammit, I did not want that today. I just want to get away from me. I refuse dan-kend. And how sweet he smiles and says "Well then maybe later" ... oh yes ... I go outside to get some fresh air.
In the door I have to whip my way through a herd of tourists. Au weia, if all of them are let in, you can not move in there, and sooner or later I'll have to kick my butt on my shin again. I always do that now, because I've found that it's a tremendously satisfying feeling, a guy who, even in the middle of dancing, completely uninvited and ignorant so grabs your butt and then even so from above grinning victoriously - of course: there you go, doll! - so hard to tread on the shin, that you can delight in his suddenly completely different stupid spoiled face.
And while I stand there on the wall and smoke, looking at the people out here, I hear a girl out of her crush of friends saying "coffee burger" in passing, and she speaks the burger like Burger King. They giggle over it and I think it's quite funny. Yes, exactly: a coffee burger, with chips and ketchup, please. As I squeeze myself through the crowd, back to my seat, I look around to see if I do not know someone, someone I'd like to sit down with so I do not have to hang around as fair game anymore. Standing silly on my landing, I'm waiting for a good song.
Suddenly Tom and Guy press me to greet them on the right and on the left and make fun of my face, saying that I would look scary, and that no one will chat with me tonight. I am glad that you are here.
"Who wants to be talked into here? This is my defense eater," I return obercool. They laugh at me, blaring in chorus: "Yes, yes!", And Tom goes to fetch vodka. Guy stays at the bar and there to Bettina or something. I do not want vodka. The stuff is too sharp, too strong for me and besides, I can not stand anything. I also want to come home safely. So we sit on my stairs, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, Tom with his famous vodka mood, me with my notorious long face and he asks me why. I only answer that this is private.
"So bad?" He asks in a worried tone. Uff! I honestly have no desire to talk to him about this all-out bullshit with Wolf and certainly not about Mila and certainly not that much of anything, after this piteous question. I smile affected, press my cheek to his and say in his ear, "I'm already a big girl," and then I'm finally hell out of my soul - Firestarter, Killing in the Name - until I'm wet Slapschepatsche ,
I have to pee and splash my face. Unfortunately, there are still three girls in front of me, but ok, I'm still waiting, a good opportunity to cool something, even if it stinks here in the passage. So bad? I ask myself now.
With Wolf is now but finally final. I mean forever! I also mean without a chance: Let's stay friends as he would like it. I will never understand what this weakmat understands by friendship. He can take me to the Stone Age and back again. He had actually done it last weekend ... Stop! If I just think about it, my guts mutate again into a twitching, snappy alien.
Finally I'm on it with pullers. I'm a pretty drunken Hosenbund-Speckrollen Girlie stumbled along with two matching types from the toilet, I push them aside.Almost at the same time a "Ihhh" and a "Bah" escape from me and my co-guest, and we look at each other in disgust and shaking our heads. The Americans only grin dirty and stare back with oversized red fish eyes. Quickly I scare away my ugly thoughts on a scene in this loo that I really, really would not want to see. Bluähks! I hope they only have a bit of fun, because in the bathroom the floor is almost under water.
What a Pullern attitude, holding the trouser legs above the floor and not touching the toilet with the ass. How unworthy! In my next life I'm a man ... and then I piss my shitty ex Fuck You in the snow in front of her window. And then I imagine how I could accomplish this despite my female shell and must really blast off ...
Tom I see standing at the bar with Guy and his Bettina. Guy is such an ass, such a stupid idiot, who has a really great wife sitting in the kibbutz at home, a great woman who still loves him, why I do not understand, plus this super sweet little son, and the here in Berlin at the bar in the burger has nothing better to do than this almost ten years younger Bettina-like, admittedly admittedly very smart and pretty and that's all, but thinks really, he can just this and so to go through secretly? Is there really still a piece of residual brain over the waist line? I'm really done with these guys. Honest ey! I'm so totally exhausted!
So I sit down at the bar and gape at Guy reproachfully and he knows exactly what is meant. Tom turns up in front of my nose and engages me in a conversation. He tries to protect his friend. Yes, sure! Tom is one of those. Has there this sweet and young friend, who supposedly knows nothing, but also does not stress him, and Tom continues as usual. Three children of two different women should have somehow stirred him up, but ...
Short nights Anna Blumbach 256 pages ANAIS volume 7 Publisher: Schwarzkopf Price: 9,90 EUR ISBN 978-3-89602-555-5
