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I alighted from my cab in front of my hotel in Frankfurt well past midnight and totally washed out. In my comings and goings over the next few days, I developed a nodding acquaintance with Uncle and Auntie, who solicit not five metres from my hotel entrance in front of their club see pics.
They were almost lovable, like distant family, and every time we crossed paths I felt obliged to drop in. I had once been taken to Teasers and suspected the bike would later feature in some sort of dancing act. You sat at a table, had a drink and watched the dancers. Here, there were a few low tables with easy chairs around them, all empty. Double-D, definitely. Svetlana then takes off her furry topcoat to better reveal her assets, and just then Madam Auntie invites me, too, to take off my jacket and relax.
I was not to give up my barrier. Svetlana now starts to work her punter over. It goes against all norms society has instilled in us.
I had hoped to slink into a back table, watch a floor dance or two and then disappear. But here I was, in a suffocating emptiness and about to enter negotiations in Ukrainian. I fidget around and feel I must talk. Oh yes, Odessa. Friends of mine have just returned from there. It appears that the economy is quite down.
