the world has turned and left me here

dress up

When I got back to Munich, Martina was waiting for me at the S-Bahn station. It was a nice surprise since I didn't expect her until the evening. When evening came, we got all dressed up and went out to eat. This was apparently the first time Martina had been on a "dress up" date. All the other German Startlodge guys said they'd never done it either; apparently, it's not as common as it is in America for young people to go in for this kind of formal stuff.

Drawn by the prospect of live piano music, we went to the Cafe am Beethovenplatz. Had great food (great looking too--as Ed says, "presentation") with wine. A Beethoven bust glowered at us from across the room. Turned out to be jazz piano but that was okay. A tackily-dressed woman with a red blinking light on her cap (think LA Light shoes worn on the head) sang "The Girl From Ipanema." At first her unusual appearance and expressiveness made me think it was affectation, but after watching for a while, we decided it was all sincere; she just lost track of the fact that people were watching her when she sang. Sometimes she would look over at the pianist, and he up at her, perspiring, smiling, pleased to be setting her movements to jazz chords. It was beautiful to watch two people so completely in synch.

Martina and I had a lengthy discussion about a Rubenesque painting hanging on the wall. It was difficult to read visually. Eventually decided (okay, I decided) that it depicted the aftermath of a sixty-nine, with one figure laying back on a pillow looking satisfied and the other one possibly wretching over the foot of the bed. Yeah I'm pretty refined, I know.

After some walking around we ended up in McDonald's for some water. A guy wearing only a leopard-skin-print thong came in and ordered something with his friends. We drank our water outside by the Karsplatz-Stachus fountain. There an athletic-looking dog entertained us by chasing a Coke can. The owner would wave the thing from side to side, double-faking, and the dog would crouch low to the ground, trying to guess which way it would go like a goalie. A frantic chase would ensue. Sometimes the dog would have to plunge into the fountain to retrieve it, and then would do that full-body shake thing. I noticed leopard-skin thong guy was standing around off to the side talking to his friends, and wished that their fates would collide: water-shedding energetic dog and practically naked guy, all on a slightly cold evening. It would have been appropriate somehow but I guess I didn't wish hard enough.

Martina and I got tired, fought over who was going to sit where in the S-Bahn. When we got in her car I had to sit in the back because she had completely taken out the front passenger seat. I had lots of legroom but it was a funny situation. "Home James," I told her.