Paris is always associated with romance. But what about New York? When one defines this city, it mostly sums up in these words – money, power, talent, ambition. I realized that Valentine’s day is coming up next month and I came up with an important question to myself: Where’s the love in this city?! Does romance even exist here in Manhattan? New York City is notorious for being unforgiving, tough, harsh, cold, and lacking in human compassion. But despite all these negative traits, during the autumn of September 2010, something strange happened to me. I fell in love. And yes, it happened here in New York.
But not everyone who falls in love had a good experience with it. I was not so lucky. The girl I fell in love with, Hanna – a German tourist who’s been travelling the world for the past eight months, it wasn’t necessarily love at first sight when I met her. It took me a few minutes to notice the intentions behind her smile. At that time, I was still settling myself here in Manhattan and I was broke as fuck. So when she asked me if I wanted to have a drink with her at a bar, I immediately jumped in (thinking that she’ll be paying for my booze at the bar). I also happen to know where to take her. At around midnight, I finished my shift at the hostel and then I saw Hanna sitting across the room, smiling at me. Her smile is reminiscent of a Valkyrie, it captivates me from a distance. She slowly walks toward me.

“Are you done yet?” She asked.

“Yes, just give me five minutes.” I replied.

I finished off the auditing and cash out.

“So where are we going?” Hanna asked.

“We are going first to The Belfry Bar and then to a dance club called The Beauty Bar.” I responded.

“Sehr geil!” She responded.

Back then, I did not understand what she said. But I know for sure that she spoke to me in German. I also know that she’s already a little drunk because I can smell the alcohol from her breath.

“What does that mean?”

Hanna laughed at me.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little drunk. It means “so cool” in German.

“Aha, thanks for teaching me… I hope you can teach me other things aside from that!”

We both laughed at the same time after my lewd joke. I still remember the blue silk dress that she was wearing. We took the #2 train from the 125th Street station and then transferred to the N train on Times Square station heading to Union Square. As Hanna and I got off the 14th Street station, we started walking towards 3rd Avenue. I wanted to take her first at The Belfry bar. When she and I arrived at the Belfry, it was too crowded and nowhere to sit or stand to consume your drinks. So we crossed the street and went to the Beauty Bar discotheque. As we walked inside, the bartender whom I don’t remember, immediately recognized me.

“Where have you been? Did you hide all summer? The bartender asked me.

“I guess so.” I responded, pretty much just bullshitting her.

I asked Hanna what she wanted to drink. And I also noticed that all the guys are checking her out, a German beauty like her isn’t a familiar site in here in New York City. I ordered us two screwdrivers and two tequila shots.

“No beer?” She asked.

“Nope, not tonight!” I responded.

“I’m German and to me beer is like water.”

“Sorry, do you want me to take it back and exchange for a beer?”

“No, that’s fine. We’re both getting drunk tonight anyway”.

“So you said that you’ve been travelling around the world for eight months now?”

“That’s right!”

“What is it like, it must be really nice to be able to afford it.”

“Yeah, but to tell you the truth, I travel because I want to forget my problems.”

“That sounds fair, whenever I have problems, I write.”

Hanna takes a sip from her drink.

“What do you write?”

“Fiction, poetry. It really depends on my mood. I write mostly just to make my depression more bearable. Sorry to depress you…”

“You don’t depress me, don’t worry.”

“I got us some tequila shots! Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

We cheered and downed our shots. I immediately noticed Hanna’s deep blue eyes despite the fact that it’s dark inside the club. The DJ played The Killers’ song, “Mr. Brightside”. Hanna and I hurriedly sipped our screwdrivers, kind of life we’re thinking the same that we should finish our drinks so that we could dance to this guilty-pleasure track. Hanna looks like she wanted to say something but she’s restraining her own emotions.

“You know something?” I asked Hanna.

“What is it?” She asked back.

“My entire life, I never saw my own mother and father in the same room. I feel like it’s my fault, like I did something and it reached a point where they don’t want to see each other.”

“It’s not your fault. You want to hear my story? My father recently committed suicide because my mother left him for another man. He left me his money and I used that to travel the world. I just travel to forget my problems.”

I looked at Hanna with sympathy and she did the same.

“I’m glad we both have fucked up lives” I said with a smile in my face. Hanna smiled at me.

“Come on, let’s dance.” I said.

We both got up from our seats and headed towards the dance floor.

TO BE CONTINUED…