Dec 1982

Bsirs was in decline. Hamburg’s long white nights of the summer solstice had given way to the fiercely short days of winter. Rain, darkness, cold. High school students stayed home weeknights. The northern city’s intelligentsia avoided the sleek nightclub on Eppendorfer Weg. Painters gave way to pimps and models were replaced by off-duty prostitutes from the Reeperbahn. Neither liked to pay for their drinks and my share of the profits shrank to nothing. It was time to head south for the season.

Paris.

Spain.

Thailand.

I told Claudia about my departure. We had been seeing each other since October. The blonde 20 year-old had a dramatic overbite and a aquiline nose. Claudia did it all. It only seemed fair to say goodbye.

The next night SS Tommy presented a bill. The 6-foot bulldog was the enforcer for the GMbH. They ran the Eroscenter. 200 women. Sex five times a night. 200 DMs times 5 times 200. $100,000 a night. SS Tommy had three Ferraris.

I looked at the bill. 10,000 DMs for sexual services. Each act itemized by date.

“What’s this?”

“Claudia.” SS Tommy pointed to the name. His scarred finger jabbed the top of the ‘rechtung’.

“She never said anything about working for you,” I said in rough German.

I had studied the language in high school and college. Bruder Karl had never mentioned ‘lick arsh’ in his classes, but I could read most of the charges. 200 DMs for Schwanzlutschen seemed steep.

“Everyone in Hamburg works for someone.” SS Tommy wasn’t a man for haggling. Zuhaleters had quick tempers. SS Tommy was renown for his short fuse.

I had to offer him a gesture.

“Here are the keys to my car.”

SS Tommy took the car keys for 5000 DMs. I had paid 7000 six months ago.

“Where’s it parked?”

“At the mechanic.”

Two days earlier I had driven the BMW into a tree. The chassis was bent. The orange 2002 was still in the forest waiting a tow. In my mind the car was a write-off.

“Morgen 5000.” SS Tommy grabbed my arm.

“Of course.” My shoulder went dead.

5000 DMs were under my bed. SS Tommy wasn’t getting a pfennig. Neither was Claudia. We had sex at midnight. We sinned for another 2000 DMs. Betrayal and revenge are a heady aphrodisiac. I never mentioned SS Tommy. This was pleasure not business. She kissed me good night like a girlfriend. I asked for her panties. She was happy to give them and I said that I would see her tomorrow.

A minute after the taxi disappeared down Mittelweg, I packed my bags and left a note on the kitchen table to SS Tommy.

The bed, chairs, table, and everything else were his.

“Bahnhof.” I was taking the first train to anywhere.

Luck.

2:34am night train to Paris. I hid on the platform like a spy fleeing Nazi Germany. The southbound train pulled out of the station on time. My compartment was empty. I didn’t sleep until we passed through Dutch customs. The train stopped at every station. The towns and cities sounded like battlefields.

Dawn brightened the gray skies on a landscape of ruined steel factories. The industries destroyed by Japanese competition. The decay stretched from border to border into Belgium. The wet of the winter carried the corruption of rust and concrete. The collapse of capitalism.

Charleroi was not the Europe of tourists.

Bad times were the future.

I pulled out Claudia’s panties. They were silk. French. ETA in Paris was 9:23am. Cafe du lait, croisssant, and a Calvados at the Deux-Magots. A room at the Hotel Lousiana. SS Tommy would never find me there. I inhaled Claudia’s fading fragrance. Cinnamon and sweat with a tang of herring. We had a good thing for a few months.

I would never think of her body as ruins.

Not when I held her panties in my hand.