Two Little Assholes and One Big Mouth
Berliners will crash into you on crowded public transport
without a single fucking ‘entschuldigung.’ Get used to it. Fuck knows I’m trying. You can blame the big city and you can blame
the stars and Mars and whatever. Dump a
heat wave on a slow moving tram, jam it full of people and shake it.
I’m not the asshole who stands in the doorway of the tram
with a large suitcase blocking people trying to get in. That would be the Deutschbag. Me, I try to move further into the tram with
my big suitcase in tow. I am not always
traveling with a big suitcase, but if I am it is most certainly full of
Berliner jelly donuts--or camera gear going to/from an out-of-town photo shoot.
I had just spent the last 6 hours on a sweltering hot train
trip from Prague which should have
taken 5 hours and most definitely should have been air conditioned. All of the previous train trips were (air
conditioned; most certainly not on time).
It was 11pm in the hottest and
most humid night I can remember since 1966 when I was stuck in a Saigon
hell hole and received a bamboo shank in the neck which facilitated my rebirth
into yet another level of hell.
I digress. Enter
asshole number one: German female pushing
her way onto the tram (normally I wouldn’t refer to a female as an asshole, but
what issued forth shortly after our chance encounter can only be described as a
load of scheisse being forced out of
a very spastic orifice), pushing ahead of the crowd. Seeing her impatience, I tried to move my
large self and my suitcase deeper into the sweltering tube of crowded hell in
order to make room. My efforts were
repaid in kind by two hands beating my sides like Rocky training on a side of
beef. I turned to survey the impatient
Deutschbagette. “Where are you
going? There’s no space!” It was
true. If I moved one centimeter forward
I would be tip deep in someone’s ass. And a
dude’s no less. She kept pushing on my
back. I told her to chill out. She wouldn’t.
“I don’t want to chill out! Fuck you and your fucking
koffer!” She then jumped up on my
suitcase, walked over the top of it and dropped down on my feet in front of
me. Clearly this woman was mentally ill. I was exhausted and about as close to a heat
stroke as a 286 lb dude can be without a rebirth or a reboot. I tried on my best Berliner Schnauze in the face of obvious insanity: “Are you ok?
Alles gut now?”
“YES!!!” the crazy bitch screamed. “I doubt it,” I replied.
Enter Asshole number two:
“THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!” in an American accent.
Me: “OK.”
Asshole number two:
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! SHUT THE
FUCK UP!!!”
(German tram youth echoing):
“Shut da fuck up, shut da fuck up.
Hee hee.”
Me (to self): very
funny, German yoots, but you are not helping.
Asshole number two: “SHUT
THE FUCK UP OR I WILL FUCK YOU UP!!!!!”
I gave him the smirk I give to every Chihuahua
who barks at the Big Dog. It was kind of
sad. Asshole number two was about 5 foot
9, 50 years old, scrawny with long, grayish hippy hair. The only thing this pussy could fuck up was
his morning joint roll. I was exhausted
and in shock. His retarded girlfriend
had just beat my sides and jumped over me to be close to her asshole. I am not one to interfere with assholes in
love, so I let it slide.
I stood there on the 100 degree tram stewing in my own
juices (literally) and thinking about what needed to be said:
Dude, clearly I
understand the situation. This here
ugly, mentally retarded bitch of yours is all you can get and you are lucky to
have her. I got between you and your
stupid bitch and you needed to monkey up and howl at me. I admire the fact that you spun around and
never stopped screaming at me even though you MUST have seen that I am double
your size and could crush you without even half trying. You are only following your simian psyche and
I suppose I can respect that. But what you don’t know is that I’ve been taking
shit from bigger assholes than you my entire life. As I got older, the assholes got bigger. Some of them gathered in threes in London alleys and jumped me. Some of them jumped me from behind and kicked
my legs out from under me in the Prague
snow and kicked my ribs in while I was down.
Others, a select few who were brave enough to look me in the face, got
my full wrath. One of them got a broken
nose with a geyser of blood. Another
(your exact size and weight) was lifted off his feet and bounced so hard off
the ground that he slid-slammed into a door--I thought I was in a cartoon. Bitches didn’t get up. Word.
I resisted the urge to bounce-flip your dumb ass because I
understand. I got between your monkey ass and your spastic girlfriend. You have to protect her; this is hardwired in
the male DNA . I even stuffed down my shock and rage and apologized
for getting in between such simian love.
It was all I could do to apologize.
For three stops I fought the urge to say ‘Exit next stop, fucktard.’ To
this day I think of picking your scrawny ass up and slamming you into your
ugly, retarded bitch. If only to make me
feel like I didn’t suck up all the shit in the world for nothing.
And if only to keep another pair of stupid Berlin
monkeys from breeding. But I suppose you
already have. Enjoy your Hartz IV
careers, assholes.
When I moved to Frankfurt I was warned that the city is an open air mental asylum. This theory proves itself to be true every day. Perhaps Berlin is similar? Perhaps it's the whole of Germany that's the funny farm?
ReplyDeleteI've been all over Germany (with the exception of Frankfurt and Hamburg) and I've always thought that Germans have a special kind of obsession with the rules, die ordnung--and were generally anal retentive about life. Then I moved to Berlin, which most people say isn't Germany. I think Berlin is more of an island of uberweird inside of Germany. Maybe it's the fact that half of the people aren't from here, the large alternative youth culture, yada yada yada. I still maintain that even the most uncultured white trash usually has the etiquette/common decency to say 'excuse me' or 'pardon' when crashing into you, stepping on your foot, etc. That simply doesn't happen in Berlin. Deutschbags, all of 'em.
ReplyDeletedb
Oh, my...I don't quite know how to characterize those people you describe, but I think you've labeled them rather well.
ReplyDeleteAnd with such remarkable restraint.
I really hate crowded situations, whether it's transport or rooms...which is probably why I am turning into something of a hermit. Home is safer. Most of the time...lol
The word for them is 'Deutschbag' in the case of a German offender and 'douchebag' for the rest. I'm trying to figure out what makes men monkeys in certain situations. And understand why, in spite of my intellect, education, age and experience--I still want to beat seven shades of shit out of people like the dude in the post above. Testosterone is not a valid explanation; it is only an excuse. Knowing that I could have broken that douchebag in half in 3.5 seconds isn't enough. I regret not doing it to this day. I must admit to myself that it is extremely thrilling for me to hurt someone who seriously deserves it. It is only by writing about my conflicts that I can begin to deal with this reality. Fear is a factor; I don't want to get deported over a stupid monkey brawl with an idiot. The above post is a pressure valve release at best. Thank fuck for writing, otherwise I'd definitely be incarcerated, deported, or worse.
ReplyDeletedb
Writing is a marvelous outlet...and preferable for other outcomes, like deportation or incarceration. Hang tough!
Delete