I woke up in Berlin’s Schonefeld airport at around 10:30 AM. I opened my eyes and found a pretty stewardess trying to wake me up because all the passengers has already gotten out of the plane. She has platinum blonde hair and light blue eyes, if it’s 1935 in Germany, she would be the ideal poster girl for the Hitler Youth.

“Sir? We have arrived in Berlin..” She said.

“What?”

I was still feeling a little groggy from the sleeping pills that I took when the flight left New York City.

“I’m sorry Sir, but you need to exit the plane now.”

“Okay, no problem.”

I only had one carry on, a leather duffle bag that I kept on the compartment. I finally got up from my seat and started to retreat from Air Berlin. I walked straight to the arrivals area and went through the checkpoint where they would check my passport and asked me if I was there for business or pleasure. And of course, I said pleasure. So I got cleared at the checkpoint and then met my chauffer which I booked online, he’s carrying a sign with my name on it. The Mercedes-Benz car was too expensive so I opted for the Volkswagen. The car service dropped me off right in front of the WOMBATS HOSTEL in the Mitte District of Berlin, later I found out that it’s the German equivalent of Brooklyn’s Williamsburg neighborhood, which literally means that I’m fucked with all these hipsters. I checked myself in for a private room and planned to get piss drunk on the bar that they have on the rooftop of the hostel. I checked my Facebook messages and found that my Italian friend Rizzo who lives in Rome, just arrived at the lobby. Rizzo and I met at an illegal hostel in Queens nears La Guardia Airport where I was subletting a small room. I came down to the lobby to pick him up and then we headed up to the rooftop bar. Rizzo insisted to buy our first rounds of drinks, he had a Berliner beer and I ordered my favorite, Weihenstephaner and a glass of Jaegermeister. I also met a group of traveling Americans who like myself, visiting Europe for the first time. And to be perfectly honest, I wish I never bumped into them because they won’t stop bitching about the inconvenient differences between Europe and America. So I thought to myself, why the fuck are you here then? Not to stereotype Americans who travel but if you have nothing positive to share about your travels, then shut the fuck up!! My friend Rizzo got piss drunk and started and flirting with a couple of girls from New Delhi. I also met fellow New Yorkers and they also bitched that were tired of traveling and cannot wait to go home. I got sick and tired of hearing their bullshit, so I left the table and went to the balcony of the bar, where it has the view of the Berlin skyline, I took out a cigarette from my pocket and lit it up and started smoking. I heard some guy walking in the balcony, wearing a brown sweater with a flag of Germany, he approached me and asked for a light.

“Do you have a lighter?” He asked.

“Sure,” I replied and gave him the lighter.

With his accent, I could tell that he’s German. Which fucking reminded me of Hanna.

“Enjoying your time in Berlin?”

“Not yet, it’s my first time here in Europe. What about you?”

“It’s my second time. I live in Munich”

“So what brings you back to Berlin?”

“It’s the wedding of my ex-girlfriend.”

When I heard his last sentence, I immediately found respect for him. He got some balls for going to the wedding of his ex-girlfriend. Because I know for a fact that if it was me, I wouldn’t go. No fucking way.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that…”

“That’s alright, it’s my decision to come. She never invited me anyway”.

I then laughed and was amused a little bit.

“Didn’t mean to laugh at you but I think you just became my personal hero. I was in love with a girl once..”

“Was in love?”

“Yeah, I was.. ”

“What about now?”

“Now? I don’t know.”

I then decided the subject of the conversation.

“So what do you do?” I asked.

“I’m a photographer.” he replied.

“That’s really interesting. I dated a bisexual girl once and she always took my photos, they’re now always used on my profile pic on Facebook.”

“That’s always beneficial.. What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

I said my profession with confidence in me. For the first time in my life, I can proudly say that I earn a living writing fiction. I then smiled at myself.

“That’s awesome! I don’t meet a lot of writers.”

“I know, writers are becoming extinct. Now all we have are bloggers, nothing against them but I still prefer the traditional way of writing”.

“Like carrying a small leather notebook with everywhere you go?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing at all. Any of your work been published?”

“Yes, I had one. I’m currently working on my second novel and I don’t even know when it’s going to be finished.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Oh sorry, I’m Lorenzo. Lorenzo Basque”

“I’m Sven. Where are you from?”

“New York City. And you’re from Munich..”

“That’s right.”

For some reason, the more I converse with him, the more he embodies the masculine of Hanna. And I really fucking hate it, when a person takes me down memory lane where I still considered myself a human being, with human emotions.. Now, I don’t know what to consider myself. I feel like a deranged raven that cannot be tamed, some kind of fucking monster.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I better go back inside to check on my friend.”

“Same, I will see you around.”

I went back inside the rooftop bar and found Rizzo taking different turns in kissing those two girls from New Delhi. God bless him. I’m so proud of my friend! The next day, my friends from London, Danny and Joe, also arrived in Berlin after I invited them to take my first ever, German pub crawl. They’re one of my very few writer friends. Danny owns a pub in London where he draws his inspirations from all the weirdos who frequents his pub. Joe works for a brochure company where he’s in charge of all the writing. I also met them both at the hostel back in Queens, four years ago. I’m still going through those days, where I have to get a 9-5 job just to survive. Whenever I feel tired of it, I just think of Shakespeare… Even he himself, has to work as a money lender throughout his writing career, and also during the time of famine, sold grain and barley to his neighbors. If William fucking Shakespeare can do it, so can I!

Danny and Joe decided to skip lunch and went to see the Reichstag building that day. They could only spend one day in Berlin because they have to go back to their jobs in London. Rizzo and I went to lunch at Hofbrau Haus Biergarten, we ordered the Berlin delicacy, Eisbein – slow roasted pork shank with homemade sauerkraut, and mashed potatoes. You can’t get any more German than this. While eating, Rizzo got a phone call from his girlfriend in Amsterdam. His face became serious and pale.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Everything.” Rizzo answered.

I stopped stuffing my mouth with food and gulped on my bottle of beer.

“Tell me, what is it?”

“My girlfriend is pregnant and I need to come back to Amsterdam”

“Fuck, that sucks man”

“I know I promised to hang out with you here in Berlin but I really have to get back to Holland.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand completely.”

We finished our meals and went back to the hostel. Rizzo left for Amsterdam that night. Danny, Joe, and I went to this techno club called TRESOR. We went inside the club, located in an abandoned factory, which I think is a pretty cool venue. We arrived at the club and found interesting characters inside. With ages ranges from 18 to 60 years old. I must say that the German club scene is the most diverse that I’ve ever seen. I would never see an age diversity like that in Manhattan. We started getting our grooves on in the middle of the dance floor and surprisingly, the DJ’s booth is on the elevated part of the middle floor as well. The DJ then remixed some notable tracks from FATBOY SLIM, MOBY, LYKKE LI, and ROYKSOPP. I forgot to buy myself a drink so I went to the bar. Across from me is one of the prettiest girls inside the club. She’s got curly dark hair, skin white as snow, deep blue eyes. If I’m not mistaken, she’s probably around 18, and that made me feel a little weird. The idea of a 30 year old like me fucking an 18 year old. Oh fuck it! I’m in Germany and I’m horny! Tonight I will get laid!

“Excuse me, could you pass the menu?” She asked.

“Sure” I responded.

The intentions in her eyes won’t stop staring at me. Is it my exotic background? I’m half-Italian and half-Singaporean. Thanks to my father who’s from Europe and my mother from Asia. East meets West. My parents courted each other in college back in Los Angeles where I was born and the rest is fucking history.

” Wie gehts?” She asked me speaking in German.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak German” I responded.

“Oh I’m sorry, forgive my poor English”

“That’s alright, I understand your English, that’s all that matters.”

“Are you from South America?”

“No, I’m from New York City.”

Her eyes then widened with excitement, and I could tell she’s having an internal orgasm.

“I’m from Heidelberg, just visiting Berlin for the weekend. What’s your name?”

“I’m Lorenzo.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me mine?

“Is that important?”

I then smiled at her like a dickhead.

“That’s mean…”

She smiled back a little bit.

“I’m sorry, I was just kidding. So tell me, what’s your name?”

“I’m Heidi”

“Heidi from Heidelberg, I love that about you..”

Heidi then laughed a little bit.

“Please don’t make fun of my name..”

“Oh come on now, I’m not making fun of you..”

I grabbed Heidi’s hand and held it softly in my palms and then placed it on my chest.

“Do you feel that?” I asked.

“Feel what?” She responded.

“My heartbeats, it’s getting faster. It means you’re making me nervous..”

“I make you nervous?”

“Yeah, in a good way. Why don’t we have a drink and then party some more at my hostel? There’s a rooftop bar there where we could hang out in open air.”

“Yeah, I want to do that.”

I looked at the dance floor and saw Danny and Joe chatting a couple of girls, I eventually found out that those girls are from Ireland. Heidi and I did a shot of tequila. I called Danny and Joe and the four of us took a taxi back to the hostel. We went straight up to the rooftop bar where we joined other travelers who drinking the night away. I ordered a couple of more beers for me and Heidi. She was admiring the view of Berlin at the balcony, I handed her over the beer.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome”

“Do you have a private room?”

“I booked a private suite, I think I spent enough days sleeping in bunk beds..”

“Let’s drink the beer in your private suite”

“Sounds good to me.”

She grabbed my hand and we both headed towards the elevator down to my room on the 5th floor of the hostel. I waved goodbye to my friends, Danny and Joe as me and Heidi walked out of the rooftop bar. We stepped out of the elevator and bumped into Sven. He looks a little upset.

“Hey Sven, what’s up?

“I was actually hoping to see you…”

“Really? What’s up? Sorry, this is my friend, Heidi.”

Heidi and Sven both said hi to each other. I sensed that Sven is having some kind of emotional breakdown. I experienced that phase before and I know exactly what it’s like. I gave my card key to Heidi and told her to let herself in Room #504 and wait for me.

“Sven, what’s wrong?”

” I saw her, and she turned me away… I wanted to talk to you because I know that you’ve been in love with someone before who never loved you back. I just, I just wanted to talk and hang out with you that’s all..”

“I hate to do this but I have company in my room… I tell you what, let’s have breakfast tomorrow around 8:30 AM, sounds good?”

“OK, I will see you tomorrow, I’ll just drink my sorrows away at the bar upstairs.”

Sven got inside the elevator and went up to the rooftop bar. I continued to my room where I found Heidi lying in bed waiting for me. I jumped on bed and made love to her like a fucking teenager. She rode me like an expert, we tried different positions, and for someone in her late teens like her, she’s pretty damn good and experienced. I can now proudly say, that I’ve had some German orgasm. The next morning, I woke alone in my bed. Heidi was gone. She was a fucking player. on my night stand, I found a piece of paper, where she wrote her email address if I ever want to get in touch with her. I know for a fact that I’m not the only she plays around with, not that I disrespect girls like her, I actually admire them for having the spine to be themselves and not being worried to be labeled as a slut or a whore. Because in today’s still sexist world, the world reacts differently to the gender who’s doing it. If a man fucked a thousand women, he’s cool. If a woman fucked a hundred men, she’s called a slut. I just don’t get it. I never understood the idea of discriminating someone based on their gender.

As I stepped out of my room, I saw Sven sleeping at the corner sofa, by the elevator. I woke him up.

“Hey Sven, wake up” I said.

He slowly opened his eyes.

“Hey, I tried to wait for you out here last night…”

I raised my eyebrows and feel kind of strange for a minute.

“I was with a girl last night, you knew that. Anyway, let’s go have breakfast downstairs.”

“Sounds perfect.”

He and I went downstairs where they have the breakfast buffet that costs four euros per person. Sven is still acting kind of strange. He wants to say something but something is holding him back. I was wondering what it was.

“Okay, Sven stop it.” I said.

“Stop what?” He replied.

“You’ve been acting strange since last night. Could you just tell me what the hell is going on?”

“I went to see my ex-girlfriend last night and she told me that she doesn’t ever want to see my again.”

I sighed and felt very bad for him. I wish I could say that it’s going to be an easy phase but I don’t want to lie to him.

“I’m so sorry dude, I know it’s fucking hard but it will eventually pass.”

“And one more thing,”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“I think I like you.”

I almost choked on the orange juice that I was drinking. I put down my glass on the table and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I know I only met you last night but since then, I cannot stop thinking about you. You’ve been camping in my head. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I’m just telling you how I feel.”

“You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. I don’t think that this is the right place and the right time to be honest about emotions like that.”

“So where is the right place and the right time?!”

I was confused for one minute and didn’t know how to respond to him. Do I feel some slight attraction towards him? His physical appearance is reminiscent to Marlon Brando, except that he got deep blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, just like Hanna. I’ve been fucked over by Hanna, the last person that I truly loved and since then, I found it very difficult to emotionally connect with people that are attracted to me or I’m attracted to.

“Listen, I also like you but not that way. And about being the right place and the right time, I don’t know what to tell you…”

“Alright, I understand. Would you take a walk with me to the Berlin Wall?”

“Sure.”

I don’t know why the fuck I said yes. But I was in a tough corner.

TO BE CONTINUED…