Free Dealing Flesh by Birgit Waldschmidt Page B

explicit show on stage. I remember that customers had the chance to disappear with a woman of their choice in a private room, called a Separét .

    “Did Vicki ever disappear in a room with anyone?”
    Mother’s voice sounds irritated.
    “No. I can’t remember, really. She might have on occasion, maybe?”
    “So what are you gonna do next?” she quickly changes the subject. Are ya’ gonna keep that job?”
    “I don’t know. But listen, I do have to go. I’ll tell Vicki you said ‘hello’, okay?”
    I hang up the phone and go about my day, instantly discarding the information Mother volunteered.
    ~~~
    I get in around six this morning, after a night of partying with Sis at The Spotlight , one of the hipper clubs in town. For a few seconds, my thoughts venture to Vicki and her encounter with this fellow H earlier at the club. Too tired to wreck my brain about another thing, I hit the sack and fall asleep within minutes.
    ~~~
    Around 15:00 Uhr this Sunday afternoon, the phone rings. Blundering into the room like a groundhog that sees light for the first time after a long hibernation, I search for the receiver. Upon finding it, I listlessly pick it up.
    “Hello?”
    “ Ich bin’s , Vic. Are you awake yet?”
    “Sort of. What’s up?”
    “Remember that guy H from last night?”
    Oh, no. Here we go…
    (Not long before Vicki moved to town, I had a run-in with this H fellow at the discotheque. It was brought to my attention then that he was bad news.)
    “What about him?”
    “I think I am in love. He’s super nice.”
    “That guy is trouble, but I guess you make your own decisions. Just be careful, okay?”
    “I can look after myself. We are actually going out to dinner tonight.”
    “Okay. I have to go right now. Take care.”
    Today, two weeks after Vic and I last spoke, she proudly announces that she eloped with H.
    “Do you know what he does for a living?” I ask.
    “Yeah. He told me.”
    “Does he ask you to make money for him?”
    “He is really good to me, even bought me a puppy. I really don’t mind bringing in the dough. It enables us to have a very nice life. I know he loves me. He carries me on hands.”
    A thousand words sit on the tip of my tongue. But knowing the pointlessness of arguing with stubborn Sissy and hardly being able to keep my own affairs in check, I keep it zipped.
    I’ve Got the Power
    I am sitting in the office catching myself counting the minutes to when I can finally go on my first break. The moment the pointer on the clock hits nine, I jimmy over to the corner store and buy a bunch of candy that I wolf down on my way back to the firm. The sugar instantly lifts my spirit. But a stinging restlessness tackles me again as soon as I return to my desk, now strongly pining for lunch recess to arrive. Franz, the head of the technology department, pops into my awareness. I remember the tickly sweet feeling that surged through me at the times he flirted with me in the past. Something about his mature sophisticated nature intrigues me, although if I had met him somewhere else, I would have not spared him a glance. Now that Franz is on my mind, the boring task of filing paperwork does not look so insurmountable anymore.
    Ragelina: He’s got a g irlfriend, but that shouldn’t be a hindrance because men are all pussy-whipped bastards anyway.
    Armed with a bunch of folders, I venture over to the other side of the complex. Sweaty palmed, I turn the doorknob of the squeaking glass door that leads into his division. He spots me within a second. I see him nod his head “hello” with beaming countenance, while he meets me half way. We exchange a few insignificant words before he offers to escort me to the elevator. As we stroll along the corridor, my anticipation for him to say something I can work with grows. He must have read my mind because out of his mouth comes, “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
    “That sounds neat. What time shall we meet?”
    “How about