Was a bit of a late one, but my post from yesterday was an obvious attempt to preempt occasions such as this.
Frankfurt is is the largest city in the region (Munich to the south, Berlin to the north), and only like 50 minutes from my humble ramshackle apartment in Mainz. Sitting regally upon the ever flowing Main river, the populace has dubbed the international banking city of Frankfurt ‘Mainhattan’, for its skyline’s uncanny similarity to New York’s own. Inside the city, architecture from the 1400s sits side by side with modern skyscrapers in a heterogeneous conglomeration of History, Culture, and Life.
Anyway whenever I go there I like to drink apple wine (‘Apfelwein’), which is a Frankfurt-specific staple, and smoke just way too many cigarettes. You can see the results above. For some reason, this is the only combination that makes me feel like I’m actually somewhere different, like a far-off city-state in Westeros. In a tiny tucked-in bar in the west side of the city, beneath the dense layer of frosted fog, drinking, smoking, and talking about politics, philosophy and movies while playing chess and blacking out. It’s the pretentious man’s dream.
Don’t worry though, it’s not all classed up elitism. Behind me in the picture, in the corner, you can see a pony-tailed man playing the digital slot machine. In front of me out of frame was a giant projector screen showing Bundesliga matches. Every 10 minutes while I was trying to discuss how I think fascism wouldn’t even be that bad as long as I agreed with whoever’s in power, chants would break out and dudes would holler while taking neon green shots whose identity I still do not know. At one point a single man stood up, probably about 60 years old, and started singing the most beautiful of anthems, his rugged vibrato so powerful no one dared interrupt. Just when his voice seemed it could get no more intense, reach no higher heights, this man hit his final note and, I swear to god, the entire bar erupted in applause and laughter. Even pony-tail gambler was beside himself.
Got out at 2 am, took the lonely train ride home after mindlessly picking up some McDonalds, and woke up on the train just in time to sprint out and not miss my stop. All in all, not a bad Saturday.
See you tomorrow.
Nick
Nick Denardi 