Saturday night. Saturday night is party time. I ain’t invited to any party tonight. What’s happened?
I’m nothing. No party tonite for me. I am too old. I’m nothing. Tears on my cheeks.
Calling some friends. What are you up for tonite?
“There’s that kinda party somewhere. Strange location, strange people. Didn’t think of going there.”
Anything else goin’ on?
Why don’t we go there?
Yeah. Why not.
A party in a villa. Kindofa castle. Wealthy people. Lots of guys with ties, how can you go to party with a tie? Ladies looking at me like I’m crazy.
I can live with that. Some of them talking to me, out of curiosity.
Good cocktails. Too many. Really.
Don’t know anyone here. Lots of people you wouldn’t want to spend a night with.
Ok, let’s go.
Where’s my buddy? She’s left already, so it seems. Come on, where are you? Gone missing.
This S-Bahn station looks so desolate. Could be in Ukraine. Where am I?
Two guys next to me. Drunk. Totally drunk. Like me.
This guy gets offensive. Calling me things.
I am desperate. Feeling like running away. But no place to hide.
“She’s a lady, she’s holy. You don’t touch her. No way.”
The other guy is on my side. So glad.
He’s Jamaican, I guess. Jamaicans are good guys. They don’t touch good ladies. I love Jamaicans.
They squabble with each other. The S-Bahn arrives. So glad.
I get in, they get in.
They keep arguing.
“She’s a whore”.
“No, she’s a lady.”
Oh my God. I’m at the mercy of this Jamaican. He is on my side. I hope. I believe.
My station coming.
“Guy, you are such a hero. A real man. I’ll see you in heaven, this other guy will go to hell.”
“Lady, no problem. You’re beautiful. A pleasure.”
Drinking too much is dangerous. Tonite I was lucky.