Berlin - Magic and...Underwear?

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So I've been to Berlin quite a few times now but my trip on Wednesday was by FAR the most eventful.

Let me start by saying that the date was October 3rd, and that's a holiday here in Germany. It's called Reunification Day and it celebrates the day the Wall came down. So because it was a holiday and because I was in Berlin (the BERLIN Wall, ahem, hem) it was understandably crowded. But I was excited because I knew there would be street vendors and live music and street performers and I had come to meet a cool friend of my cousin's who was in the city for the day. Unfortunately, there were also con artists and more than a few, shall we say, sanity challenged people....

As soon as I got off the train I got stopped by two supposedly deaf/mute Indians. Now, the way they get you is by not being able to communicate. When all was said and done, I'd been conned out of 20 euros. I was pissed, as is understandable. But I thought, hey, let it go. You've got all day to play around in Berlin and then meet Angela for coffee. It's going to be a good day.

I get not 20 steps when I get hit by another Indian. We were standing on a bridge and she was literally blocking my way off. I tried to tell her, look lady, your buddies already got me. Let me go. But of course, they don't communicate (I'm still not buying that, by the way) so after several times of trying to leave and her stepping in my way, I may have shoved her a bit.

But it's alright. Brush it off, I tell myself. She didn't get your money. So I walk along, stopping to listen to some music here, watch a street performer there, browse the cheap crap being sold on the street, smell the popcorn, watch some dancers, and then head to the Tiergarten to read. On my way in I accidentally come across the memorial to the homosexual victims of the Holocaust. I'm excited, as any gay lady would be, so I look closer and all it is is a giant cement box with a tiny window in front. And when you look in the window there is a video of a bunch of same sex couples kissing and getting caught and then going to make out somewhere else. I was not impressed. Actually, I was a little offended.

Well, art is in the eye of the beholder, right? Maybe I'm just not getting it. I'm too quick to get up on my high lesbian horse. So I wander into the grass and lay down and open Eat, Pray, Love. It's a nice day, warm and sunny, and this book is so my life right now that I'm just soaking it all up. And then...

UNDERWEAR. And I'm not just talking underwear here. I'm talking TINY underwear. I'm talking tiny, TIGHT, underwear. On a GUY. On a guy I would guess is at least a decade my senior. He walks up to me and asks, in German, if he can sit down. I tell him politely, in German, that my German isn't very good and does he maybe speak English. Unfortunately, he did. So he sits down, in nothing but this teenie, tiny pair of super tight undies and proceeds to hit on me relentlessly. Did you know it's sexy to lay in the park and read? Yeah, neither did I. So for at least 10 minutes he sits and asks me about myself. I barely look him in the eye. I'm finding the dragonfly on my purse much better company. (Actually I'm rather upset when the dragonfly leaves. We were having a nice time until underwear guy showed up.) So I try to keep up the small talk, hoping that eventually he'll get bored and leave. No, when I ask him his name, a question I think is completely harmless and perhaps will segway into, "That's a nice name. Oh look, I have a phone call," he says, "I don't know." "You don't know what your name is?" I ask. And then he starts this whole philosophical, "what's in a name" and "who are we REALLY" and I can see this is going downhill fast, so I slide my sunglasses down to my nose thinking I can read and he'll think I'm still listening to him. But noooo, that doesn't work for him. He tells me to take them off so he can see my eyes. Excuse me? You did not just tell me what to do. So I'm getting pissed. And I guess he senses it because he goes off to grab his clothes (FINALLY!).

I should have run. But he probably would have just run to catch up with me in all his tiny underwearness. Ugh... Anyway, he comes back with his clothes on and tells me we should run away to Italy together. Right. Sure. Okay. Yeah. By this time I'm texting Fran, relatively freaked out. It should be noted that nudity, or partial nudity, isn't a big thing in Europe. But I'm an American. We wear clothes. And he was the ONLY one in the park without pants on...So after another 10 minutes of cutting him off rudely while switching between reading and doing a crossword puzzle, he tells me that what I'm doing is boring and I tell him that, well, I guess that means I'm boring. And he says maybe he should go. And I say I think that is a really good idea.

By now I'm about to cry but still trying to make the best of it when here comes, oh yes, yet another set of deaf/mute Indians. Perhaps I should pause here to make it clear that I have nothing against disabled people (or Indians for that matter.) And I don't mean, "I have nothing against them" in the "I have nothing against them except I hate them" way some people use that phrase. I mean, I actually enjoy spending time with minorities, including disabled people. But by this time I'm really starting to question how many deaf/mute Indians there can be to congregate in one area of Berlin in a day. But truly disabled or not, here they come. And this time they take, wait for it...my ink pen (and by my I mean Fran's). Don't ask me how it happened. I don't even know. But they took it.

And now I'm actually starting to cry. I text my mother who is about 5,000 miles and an entire ocean away from me and tell her that I'm not sure I can take any more. But being the mother that she is she says, you've done and been through SO much. You can handle a guy in his undies. Kick him in the nuts. And money is just money. It's no big.

I try to take it in stride. But I'm hungry and I have to pee. And in Germany you have to pay to pee. But I really have to go so, alas, I pay the 50 cents to tinkle and then head to Dunkin' Donuts for a very healthy and not at all fat and sugary lunch. What happens there? I get cheered up by about 30 sparrows who try to share my muffin with me. Now, they are completely adorable so I'm sharing. And they are everywhere. People are stopping and taking pictures of crazy bird lady who is feeding sparrows bits of pumpkin muffin out of her hand. The birds start to eat off my muffin before I can and I'm telling them to please be patient, I'll share but don't get greedy. Which makes the people really begin to stop and take pictures.

After I'm done I say goodbye to my little bird friends (with a pang in my heart telling me to go buy another muffin for the hungry little things), Angela calls and we meet up for coffee in the gay area of Berlin. That's when the day really started to pick up. Angela is such a hoot and we had a great time pointing out all the leather goods stores, sex toy shops, rainbow flags, and taking funny pictures with scantily clad bears.

And while waiting for the train back home I sat next to a jolly older fellow with a full belly, a white beard, and great laugh that may well have been Santa.

Only in Berlin, my friends. Only in Berlin.

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