Huge, I’m telling you. And after about an hour he still couldn’t get my bra undone. Pathetic, no?”
“Pathetic,” says Janosch. “That kind of thing never happens to me.” He stares at Malen’s tits. She doesn’t notice, thank God. All of a sudden the light goes out. Marie is back. She’s holding the candles to illuminate the room. The flames dance around the wicks. It looks pretty. Makes me think of my mother. She’s always had candles, no matter where we were. Sometimes in the evenings she’d be studying her homeopathic medicine stuff. She’d sit at the dining room table and light a candle. It would be the only light in the house. Not even the television was on, just one candle. And it gave a beautiful light. Has she lit one again tonight? Probably. But then again maybe she didn’t have time. Perhaps they had a fight. I don’t know. I open another can of beer. Hard to believe there are so many. How on earth did Troy lug them all up here? Fat Felix must have helped. You probably can’t see the cans under his potbelly.
Fat Felix is sitting with Anna. They make a great group with Florian and Skinny Felix. Each of them is about to put his arm around Anna. She looks sensational again today. Like Malen she’s wearing panties. Hers are black, and they get stuck between the cheeks of her behind. When she bends over to one side, you can see her great ass. I could die. Hard to believe how quickly you can be swept away. Just have to see an ass. Janosch says that’s youth for you. Girls just flaunt it. That’s it.
Basta.
Sometimes I wonder if things couldn’t have been organized differently. When you’re barely thirteen, girls and asses become a drug. You never shake the habit. Florian and Fat Felix are good examples—they look like they’re devouring Anna. I’m no better. Marie has come to sit next to me again. I can’t stop myself from staring down the front of her top.
I drink some more beer. It makes everything simpler. Then I look over at Anna. She’s wearing a black T-shirt that says LOVE IS A RAZOR in fancy yellow letters. Maybe it’s a real sentence. Then again, maybe it’s just crap.
Love
isn’t a
razor
or anything else either. Love is indefinable. Love is—fucking is what Janosch would say now. But I don’t agree. I think love is more than that. Fucking is fucking. Love is something else. Music maybe. But music is the best. Or at least that’s what Frank Zappa said. I think I must be drunk. How did music get in here? Oh yes, Malen put on a CD. The Rolling Stones, of course.
I can’t get no satisfaction.
Malen comes back over to Janosch in her panties and her long legs. She sits down. I take another pull at the beer. I’m beginning to like the stuff. Makes you feel good; I don’t know why. I immediately drink some more. Marie bends over me. It feels nice. She wants to get some potato chips. Florian thinks chips and alcohol are a deadly combination. They immediately make you throw up, according to him. I still let Marie eat the chips. I picture her bent over the toilet bowl. I have to laugh. Another slug of beer. The can’s empty. Funny, I just opened it. Oh well—as I’ve said before, I’m not used to drinking. Probably why I’m also not used to how quickly the cans get empty. I get a couple more. They’re the last two. I take the second one for later and set it down next to me on the floor. Then I cover it with a Kleenex. I don’t want anyone else drinking my beer; it’s too good for that. Janosch is looking around. He’s certainly had a lot to drink. He wants more. You can tell. There’s a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth. It’s a large room and the window’s open. Nobody’s going to smell the smoke that fast. I get out my own cigarettes. The pack’s still almost full. Marie wants one too. We both light up on her match, then Marie shakes it and the flame goes out. She puts her arm around me. The speakers are pumping ABBA— “The Winner Takes It All.” Good song.
“Pathetic,” says Janosch. “That kind of thing never happens to me.” He stares at Malen’s tits. She doesn’t notice, thank God. All of a sudden the light goes out. Marie is back. She’s holding the candles to illuminate the room. The flames dance around the wicks. It looks pretty. Makes me think of my mother. She’s always had candles, no matter where we were. Sometimes in the evenings she’d be studying her homeopathic medicine stuff. She’d sit at the dining room table and light a candle. It would be the only light in the house. Not even the television was on, just one candle. And it gave a beautiful light. Has she lit one again tonight? Probably. But then again maybe she didn’t have time. Perhaps they had a fight. I don’t know. I open another can of beer. Hard to believe there are so many. How on earth did Troy lug them all up here? Fat Felix must have helped. You probably can’t see the cans under his potbelly.
Fat Felix is sitting with Anna. They make a great group with Florian and Skinny Felix. Each of them is about to put his arm around Anna. She looks sensational again today. Like Malen she’s wearing panties. Hers are black, and they get stuck between the cheeks of her behind. When she bends over to one side, you can see her great ass. I could die. Hard to believe how quickly you can be swept away. Just have to see an ass. Janosch says that’s youth for you. Girls just flaunt it. That’s it.
Basta.
Sometimes I wonder if things couldn’t have been organized differently. When you’re barely thirteen, girls and asses become a drug. You never shake the habit. Florian and Fat Felix are good examples—they look like they’re devouring Anna. I’m no better. Marie has come to sit next to me again. I can’t stop myself from staring down the front of her top.
I drink some more beer. It makes everything simpler. Then I look over at Anna. She’s wearing a black T-shirt that says LOVE IS A RAZOR in fancy yellow letters. Maybe it’s a real sentence. Then again, maybe it’s just crap.
Love
isn’t a
razor
or anything else either. Love is indefinable. Love is—fucking is what Janosch would say now. But I don’t agree. I think love is more than that. Fucking is fucking. Love is something else. Music maybe. But music is the best. Or at least that’s what Frank Zappa said. I think I must be drunk. How did music get in here? Oh yes, Malen put on a CD. The Rolling Stones, of course.
I can’t get no satisfaction.
Malen comes back over to Janosch in her panties and her long legs. She sits down. I take another pull at the beer. I’m beginning to like the stuff. Makes you feel good; I don’t know why. I immediately drink some more. Marie bends over me. It feels nice. She wants to get some potato chips. Florian thinks chips and alcohol are a deadly combination. They immediately make you throw up, according to him. I still let Marie eat the chips. I picture her bent over the toilet bowl. I have to laugh. Another slug of beer. The can’s empty. Funny, I just opened it. Oh well—as I’ve said before, I’m not used to drinking. Probably why I’m also not used to how quickly the cans get empty. I get a couple more. They’re the last two. I take the second one for later and set it down next to me on the floor. Then I cover it with a Kleenex. I don’t want anyone else drinking my beer; it’s too good for that. Janosch is looking around. He’s certainly had a lot to drink. He wants more. You can tell. There’s a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth. It’s a large room and the window’s open. Nobody’s going to smell the smoke that fast. I get out my own cigarettes. The pack’s still almost full. Marie wants one too. We both light up on her match, then Marie shakes it and the flame goes out. She puts her arm around me. The speakers are pumping ABBA— “The Winner Takes It All.” Good song.
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