Of Flatmates and Things

At home, Frederic takes care of the cooking while I take care of personal hygeine and indulge in a revitalizing shower, surrounded by R2D2 and friends. Contrary to the bitter European experiences of my past, there is a generous flow of hot water. This also sits well with the general urban decadence of the flat and the beautiful complex it is nestled in.

We eat in the living room, staging an indoor picnic on the wooden floor. Through the two huge windows I can see the sun setting. The wine turns out to be an excellent choice, and I am reasonably buzzed by the time we crack open the second bottle. Frederic tells me about the times he has visited Tel-Aviv in order to play parties there, since he is quite an esteemed DJ. I actually recall a party he played at HaTzofeh(RIP), which was indeed a hell of a time.

We relax on the sofa, and I eventually succumb to a little nap, to be awakened by a very generous act being performed on me, the kind some would say "separates the boys from the men". The kind of act where I reckon it is hard to not wake up catching your breath as a result, so long as it is done right.

We end up having extremely kinky sex on the living room floor. What the fellow lacks in girth, he more than compensates fro with creativity. I suppose it is a good thing he landed a liberated houseguest such as myself, considering he is very much into dirty talk.

I actually had plans to attenda party at Ben's, who I favorably remember as the bringer of Jagermeister from the Various Aquarious party last winter, but I am literally too fucked to even consider going.

Frederic and I go for another round and then retire to sleep. I can't help but wonder what my Homeland Subby would think about all this, but I am quick to remind myself that we never discussed exclusivity(I certainly don't crave it at this point in time) and besides, fuck it, I'm on vacation.

I have come to Berlin with the intent of drinking their beer, eating their baked goods, and fucking some meshuggeneh goyim. It's simply that simple, so I try to live by it.

Frederic is like the very negative of any scenario I had under my belt at home, anyhow. Suddenly I am on the receiving end of orders and requests. Come morning, I am treated to a hearty German breakfast consisting of toast, eggs, ham, butter and a tray of cheeses. I'm more of a fruit and granola gal when it comes to the first meal of the day, but being a practical person on a limited budget, I dig in, hoping that this will aid me in avoiding a food-related financial splurge later in the day. Protein is protein, after all.

After the most important meal of the day has been consumed and done away with, I soon find myself in a spread-eagle position usually reserved for Dr. Rosenberg's exam table, balancing myself on a wooden beam in Frederic's kitchen. Nothing like a healthy serving of morning sex, or as Gabi's dad once colorfully illustrated, it's like a nooner, only sooner.

After a post-coital nicotine break, Frederic accompanies me to the tram station, and escorts me to Ostkreuz to meet Lori. Lori has been renting a gallery bed in the kitchen of two German students on Lenbachstrasse, Noam's street. Aside from finding herself in a conveniant spot, she also found Ehud Eighties living in a van beneath her newly adopted apartment building. Ehud has by now fully embraced the technival culture, following his life-altering experiences at Czech-Tek.

Fredric, Lori and I sit down for coffee at a cafe on Sonntagstrasse, and eventually we girls bid him farewell, making plans to hit a techno party later that evening. Because of his DJ status in these parts, free entry is guaranteed, as well as - or at least, as that practical side of me hopes - free drugs. Lori invites me to see her gallery bed before we move on to do what women are gentically programmed to excell at - shopping. I am relieved to find that her roommates are not the cannibalizing fiends I'd pictured them to be, although to be fair, I only met one of the two.