Fuck for Obama in the animal garden
Christian missed his train and had to spend the night in Frankfurt, so I spent another night at Yves's place.
I meant to go to a big electro club with a girl I had met in my carpool to Berlin. She, however, didn't get back to me until after one a.m., by which time the subway and streetcar had stopped running. I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the Tiergarten, which is a cruising area for gays, as I had just recently discovered.
I walked deep into the dark and forboding vegetation and seated myself on the swings. I had been listening to my ipod, but I turned it down, so as to be fully aware, should someone try to rape me or gut me with a knife. I watched as man after man crept out of the darkness, made a couple rounds around me, staring at me and waiting for a reaction. I didn't react. It was too dark to make out their faces. I shone my ipod in there direction a few times to try to get a better look. I realized, however, that my ipod doesn't make a very good flashlight and the only person I was illuminating was myself. . . Which just made me more paranoid.
My heart was racing, but I forced myself to stay put as a sort of dare to myself. I thought to myself, to embrace the full fuckedupness of the situation, I have to approach one of these men and get a better look. I hopped off the swings and poised myself along the edge where barkchip meets grass.
A man approached me. I stepped ever so slightly in his direction and peered forward. He got to within a meter of me and began circling me, all the while staring directly at my face. I strained to make out his face. He had to be about in his thirties and southern European. Maybe Italian? He had big, bushy, dark sideburns.
I felt like my heart was going to explode out of panic. He kept circling and staring at my face. He stepped ever so slightly away and his hands glided down to his crotch.
I decided this was an appropriate time to end my experiment.
I paced quickly towards the street. I looked back every minute or so. The guy kept following me.
I reached the street. My panic subsided.
The guy was still following me.
I walked to the nearest bus stop and took a seat. The guy walked up to me and asked, with a strong semitic accent, to borrow my lighter. I didn't have one. He struggled for words for a few long seconds and then left.
I continued to the Siegessäule, where Obama was going to be speaking the next day. Much of the traffic was blocked off and one of the streets was flooded with television station trucks and security guards. I strolled around the scene and watched as trucks and people bustled about, still preparing the stage and scaffolding for the next day.
I walked all the way to the Brandenburger Gate before deciding that the electro club was too far away by foot. I went back home.
Today, Obama is coming.
I meant to go to a big electro club with a girl I had met in my carpool to Berlin. She, however, didn't get back to me until after one a.m., by which time the subway and streetcar had stopped running. I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the Tiergarten, which is a cruising area for gays, as I had just recently discovered.
I walked deep into the dark and forboding vegetation and seated myself on the swings. I had been listening to my ipod, but I turned it down, so as to be fully aware, should someone try to rape me or gut me with a knife. I watched as man after man crept out of the darkness, made a couple rounds around me, staring at me and waiting for a reaction. I didn't react. It was too dark to make out their faces. I shone my ipod in there direction a few times to try to get a better look. I realized, however, that my ipod doesn't make a very good flashlight and the only person I was illuminating was myself. . . Which just made me more paranoid.
My heart was racing, but I forced myself to stay put as a sort of dare to myself. I thought to myself, to embrace the full fuckedupness of the situation, I have to approach one of these men and get a better look. I hopped off the swings and poised myself along the edge where barkchip meets grass.
A man approached me. I stepped ever so slightly in his direction and peered forward. He got to within a meter of me and began circling me, all the while staring directly at my face. I strained to make out his face. He had to be about in his thirties and southern European. Maybe Italian? He had big, bushy, dark sideburns.
I felt like my heart was going to explode out of panic. He kept circling and staring at my face. He stepped ever so slightly away and his hands glided down to his crotch.
I decided this was an appropriate time to end my experiment.
I paced quickly towards the street. I looked back every minute or so. The guy kept following me.
I reached the street. My panic subsided.
The guy was still following me.
I walked to the nearest bus stop and took a seat. The guy walked up to me and asked, with a strong semitic accent, to borrow my lighter. I didn't have one. He struggled for words for a few long seconds and then left.
I continued to the Siegessäule, where Obama was going to be speaking the next day. Much of the traffic was blocked off and one of the streets was flooded with television station trucks and security guards. I strolled around the scene and watched as trucks and people bustled about, still preparing the stage and scaffolding for the next day.
I walked all the way to the Brandenburger Gate before deciding that the electro club was too far away by foot. I went back home.
Today, Obama is coming.