the spanish girl in berlin

Once I met a guy on my travels. He was a strange handsome young fella. After a while, we started to talk about girls we fell in love with, and the young fella told me the following story, which I can only try to retell, but the essence of this young man´s spirit I sure cannot capture…

When I got to Berlin, I looked up a hostel called “Alkamaz”. I went there and asked if they had a room for me. They said they were fully booked, so I asked if they had any recommendations for me. They hooked me up with two addresses. I decided to try the hostel named “EastWest”. I went in and the first thing I saw was Hannan, the Spanish girl.

I greeted her as well as the receptionist and asked about available rooms. Honestly, I was more interested in the receptionist than in Hannan at first, because her old-school Hippie look caught my eye. They were discussing the topic of talking to strangers and Hannan said, that she was oftentimes insecure in these kinds of situations. Me and the Hippie-receptionist encouraged her that it was not hard at all, and she should just go for it. Then two guys came into the room. Fellas from England, who would fly to Bangkok the following day. They were going to a bar and invited Hannan and me to go along, so we did.

We all smoked a joint together, and eventually the two fellas left, while Hannan and I stayed behind, now high and drunk. First she didn´t feel well and went outside for some fresh air. She looked better, after coming back in and started to play with a candle, which was on our table. We ended up playing with it for a long time, until it finally went out. Then we left the place and started to walk. We passed a shady bar and heard punk music. I suggested to go inside, and she was down for it. It was a real punk bar. When I say real, I mean really real. I bought cigarettes and ordered some beers. The waitress asked me for my ID. Luckily, the bar was only 18+ and even luckier, Hannan didn´t get to see my ID. She was older than me, and I lied about my age. I remember that we spoke about some philosophical questions and that it was hard to understand one another because the music was so loud. Anyway, I rolled another joint and lit it up inside because I knew nobody would care. It was a real punk bar.

Later we walked back to the hostel and I guess nothing important happened because I don´t remember anything. The next day, we went sightseeing together, and in the evening we went to a bar, where they had a Blues Jam Session. It was very good. We went out for a smoke, and that’s where we first kissed. I think I said something like: “I want to kiss you” and “Can I kiss you?” Yes, I´m quite the gentlemen.

Back at the hostel, we were hanging out with fellow travellers until four in the morning. We stayed behind everyone and talked. She put her legs across mine, and I was gently touching them and playing with her hands. Eventually, she said in a very gentle and loving way: “I want to kiss you.” I answered: “Really? Then come here!” And I pointed at my lap. She got up and sat on me and we started kissing. It was very romantic. After some time, she said: “I want to sleep with you.” And let me tell you, I sure wanted that as well, but the problem was: we were in a hostel in a living room where there was a camera in the corner and in our rooms upstairs there were other people sleeping. So we just kept on making out until six. I think if I was more experienced, I would have fucked her in the bathroom, but well, I didn´t and I guess that wouldn´t be so romantic anymore, would it? Eventually we went upstairs and again she said: “I want to sleep with you.” But again: in the room I was staying in five other people were sleeping. So we just got into my bed together and fell asleep.

The young fella continued his story of misfortune, but there was nothing he could do: the love stayed abstract and wasn´t able to go down on him. May his poor soul find peace.

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