In a little Hungarian cafe I found a tourist map of Budapest. It very much resembles the summertime map of Berlin. All-night “party with a capital P” hotspots, hostels with wifi, a Sunday farmer’s market “to soothe your hangover soul.” When I got home, a trail of smashed-up pieces of coloured foil lay glittering among the autumn leaves through the house door. Revellers have taken over the world.
The back of the fold-up map has a kind of jokey phrase book that made me feel I had never been young. Spelt out in comic-font phonetics are the translations for “Yeah, whateva,” “Good penis,” “Please may I fondle your buttocks” and “Harder, faster, now.” “How much for him/her?” gave me chills. By the end of the page the insouciant mood has soured into something more like desperation:
I’m having a heart attack
Don’t harrass me
I’m thirsty
My bum hurts
I’m drunk
Never again
Help me
Fuck OFF
Don’t stop
Goodbye
Once more
I’m lost
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Berlin 2013. Found among some old stories.
Tag: cosmopolitan
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revellers have taken over the world