Porky & Bess 75th Anniversary (Berlin)

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The New York Harlem theatre company is performing The Gershwins' Porky and Bess at the Komische Oper here in Berlin. I would love to go and see the production but at the low cost of fifty odd euros, well, old man river is going to have to roll on without me.

Komische Oper Berlin

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I shall stay

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Finally secured a room (in a shared apartment) for next month. And it only took me a whole month to accomplish it.

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Should I stay or should I go?

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That is the question. A glimmer of light brims the horizon of my house hunting ventures. I finally connected with a room for let and, as of this evening, the fellow and I have agreed to meet and shake hands on it. (I tell you, it's so much simpler dealing with men.) Still, am holding my breath and crossing my fingers. Who knows, right? Maybe he disapproves of my writings, too.

For now, at least, yesterday's plans of bidding auf wiedersehen to Berlin next week are...pushed down the list a bit. But just a bit.

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Freaky masturbatory stalker

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I was walking home late last night. Very late. No one else was out, the streets were blotched with shadows and blanketed with silence, and all but a disparate few windows were blacked out.

A rustle soon caught my ear and I became aware of a strange man literally lurking in the bushes. He looked scary. Not evil scary but, rather, so out of place that his very presence ranked suspiciously unkind and alarming. He wore a jacket fastened up to the collar, was calm and uttered not a word or a nod in the way of "Guten nacht" but only quietly watched me pass by. After several steps of hearing nothing but the smacking of my

leather soled footsteps I wondered -- worried -- if he mightn't be in pursuit with quiet sneakers and dared to look behind. No, he was not following me per se; but there stood he still, camouflaged by shadow, watching me. Had I seen something I wasn't supposed to? Was he a fag, a rapist, a thug, a psycho, a murderer?!


The avenue suddenly was too empty and dark. So unforgivably unpeopled.

After some moments the stranger appeared on the other side of the street peddling his bicycle one-handed en pace with me. (I took some comfort in knowing that at least he was across the street.) His other hand was tucked away in his front pocket and the stranger made it obvious he was watching me. Then it became obvious what he was doing with his other hand. Goddamn pervert was masturbating. Masturbating, stalking, and riding a bike...even sick motherfuckers can multitask!

He pursued this kick for a while. When I glanced over again he was out of sight. Just then I came to a major road and gave up the night stroll and quickly hailed a cab

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Screw ya Volkshochschule (Berlin)

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I am actually interested in formally learning the German language. I wasn't before but I am now. Some people told me to look into the Volkshochschule ("People's school") in Kreuzberg. It's where lots of foreigners go to study the language and the course fees sounded really cheap. Sounded good to me. I made sure to get clear directions; but, still, I couldn't find the building. The day was a sweaty hot one and, so, I gave up to try again another day. Got nearly identical directions from another individual -- so I knew I was walking in the right direction -- and set out again for the well known you-can't-miss-it Volkshochschule. But, dammit, miss it I did. 


Then, with sweat dripping from the forehead and down my back, I came to realize the school building is completely obscured by construction work! Scaffolds, tarps, fencing, barrier tape cover from the entrance up to several feet of the building. I passed up the place umpteenth times...and all because no one at the school thought enough to put out a sidewalk sign indicating HERE IS VOLKSHOCHSCHULE. WE'RE STILL OPEN!


What kind of professionalism is that? If they're not smart and thoughtful enough to direct people to the school, then I have misgivings about how well they can teach me German. After all the effort it took me to find the hidden place I was too put off to even bother to enter and inquire about enrollment. So to Volkshochschule I say screw ya!  

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Birds of a feather prefer to flock together

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The apartment saga continues. I know that birds of a feather flocking together is more than a rhyming truism but I ever wonder that people think themselves above such "simplistic" old-fashioned facts. Everyone likes to think he is an Individual, impervious to advertisements and peer pressure as he marches to the beat of his own drummer confident of his ability to freely express himself to whomever he pleases however he pleases. Well, if that were so I'd have a ton more friends than non-friends because I believe in my beliefs no matter the crowd, and know something about my allure of advertisements and disdain for peer pressure.

 I went in search of a furnished room for a week; they were in search of a like-minded friend. A clone.

If birds of a feather didn't need to flock together I mightn't keep losing out short-term lodgings (weekly) to "a friend of a friend." There is a lot of group-think going on in Berlin...where everyone is supposedly an Individual or artist of one degree or another. Or I would still have the room I agreed to rent yesterday (for 1 week) if the girl -- once again, a female -- hadn't read my web log with a collectivist mind. See, my freely and articulated writings do not agree with those of hers and her lot who are of the homosexual militancy. I pegged the lot in under a minute of viewing the apartment. I knew what they were. I guessed how they rolled. So? What did it matter to me? Nothing.

But that's the folly of my individuality. I went in search of a clean, furnished, wi-fi capable room for a week; they were in search of a friend, a like-minded friend. A clone. Once again, the non-conservative person-- young liberal-minded people are so above labels --ha!-- they dismiss 'liberal' along with anything in the affirmative. They cannot say what they are, only what they are not and they definitely are not conservative so I can safely identify these clueless rebels as non-conservative -- showed her inability to be open-minded, to think outside of the box, to engage outside of the familiar, to live with differences. 

Everyone likes to think he is an Individual. Well if that were so I'd have a ton more friends than non-friends.

But maybe I paint the picture too dramatic. After all I didn't enter the apartment espousing this and that (she read my web log); there was no time or need for sharing politics and moral philosophies. They were of a different cut and I didn't care. I have experienced and slept in far more uncomfortable, unfavorable and dire elements than a flat full of eco-friendly, dyed lesbians with a pseudo relativistic philosophy of life. But there I go again being dramatic: they likely haven't a philosophy of life...and probably couldn't parse together the above sentence. Moreover, the girl and roommates wouldn't even be in the flat. So...the week long rent would not have  amounted to a test of anything. 


And here I thought the Dodo bird was extinct.

 

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No match for a friend of a friend

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So far I've avoided encountering Pearl the landlady. But, then again, I've avoided closing  any apartment deals. It seems that every time I leave from viewing a place, after getting lost trying to find it -- people in Berlin couldn't be bothered to give the most helpful of directions -- a "friend of a friend" "finally" comes along in need of the room. And, of course, this friend of a friend gets the room (translation: I don't) because, hey, what are friends for?

Seems more than a little fishy to me. I don't smoke, have no piercings, am clean-cut.... I don't get it. Beats me. Most of the rentees have been girls so maybe there is something to that. Do they feel threatened by my presence? Oh well. Fuck ém. I don't intend to live out of hostels the whole time I'm here and if I can't land an apartment in Berlin, then that's just all the more reason for me to keep on truckin' baby. Booyah!

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