Falling in Love in West Berlin #2: Love at First Sight
Being gay or not gay becomes irrelevant
In the early evening, John set out from the Pension and walked along Mommsenstrasse. He had explored the city during the day but now wanted to get a taste of Berlin at dusk. John thought he had never seen such a gray city, but nevertheless actually liked the somber “European” character of the neighborhood. The shabby facades of the five-story apartment buildings, the wide sidewalks, the cobblestones, everything was gray. He realized New York could also be gray, but more due to the weather than from the buildings.
He was approaching the Bahnhof Zoo, where he had arrived very early that morning. It already seemed a long time ago. Instead of heading to the plaza with the ruin of the Memorial Church, he turned down Kantstrasse and stopped in front of the Paris Bar. He had read in Let’s Go Europe that this was a famous spot in the city, having opened in the early post-war years. Visiting celebrities were known to come there and have dinner or just a drink. John hoped it wasn’t too expensive. He just wanted to have a glass of wine and soak up the atmosphere.
John walked in and stood for a minute, not sure if he had to wait to be seated. When no one approached, he chose a seat at one of the small round tables in the front area, which seemed intended for those not eating dinner. He pulled out his well-worn tourist guide from his knapsack and put it on the table. He looked around the L-shaped room and marveled at all the artwork — a mixture of paintings, drawings, and posters that covered the walls up to the ceiling. He was so absorbed in studying the walls that he hadn’t noticed the waiter had approached the table.
“What would you like?”
John was startled to see a tall, dark, handsome waiter wearing a long white apron standing at the table.
“Oh! Sorry, I was distracted by the artwork.” He wondered if the waiter was French. He didn’t have an accent. “How did you know I was American?”
“Just a lucky guess,” he smiled.
John noticed a hint of a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. The waiter then looked casually at the Let’s Go Europe on the table.
“Yeah, that’s a giveaway, isn’t it,” John chuckled. He felt himself blush. “I can’t decide whether to have white wine or red wine. What would you recommend?”
“Red, definitely. That’s the color for you.” He smiled, and John sensed his cheeks turning red again.
“Okay, red it is, then. A glass of your house wine, please.”
The waiter nodded and walked away.
John felt the waiter was a magnet drawing him in. Besides being dark and handsome, there was something else very attractive about him that John couldn’t put his finger on. But he knew he was smitten. ‘And this is only my first day in Berlin,’ he reflected. He wondered what adventure was going to be played out in this city.
John couldn’t resist coming back to the Paris Bar the next evening. He brought a book to read. He preferred reading in cafes rather than at home or in a hotel room. He was having difficulty getting into James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and hoped the atmosphere at the Paris Bar would be conducive for reading. John sat at the same table as he did the evening before and this time he would be ready when the waiter approached. He spotted him behind the bar and waited for him to come.
“Well, I guess you enjoyed the wine,” he smiled.
“Indeed, I did, and I’ve come back for more.” John matched his smile.
“Where in the States are you from?” He asked.
“New York. Queens. Are you familiar with New York?” John asked.
“Yeah, I’ve been there a few times, but never to Queens.”
“That’s understandable. There’s not much of interest there. Where are you from? Your English is perfect.”
“I’m American too. I was born in Spain but grew up in L.A.”
“Well, that explains it,” John grinned and hoped he wasn’t going to turn red again. “By the way, my name is John.”
“I’m Miguel.” He stood silent for a moment, looking directly at John with a slight grin. “So, you’d like a glass of red house wine?”
“Yes,” John nodded.
He then took out his book and attempted to focus on the dense text. But his mind was fluttering about after the brief conversation with Miguel. He was wondering how he could pursue a friendship with him. John realized he had no talent for discerning whether someone was gay or not. He didn’t even know if he himself was. But he did know he was attracted in some way to Miguel.
John lingered there for a couple of hours, drinking the glass of wine very slowly, hoping he would have another chance to speak with Miguel. But he was busy serving tables in the restaurant section and didn’t come into the front area. By ten o’clock, John decided to give up for the night and go back to his room. He took out some money and laid it on the table, making sure to add a tip, and was about to stand up when Miguel appeared at the table.
“Hey, I was wondering. Has anyone shown you the nightlife here?”
John couldn’t believe what he had just heard and hoped he hadn’t imagined it.
“No, I just arrived yesterday. I don’t know anyone here.”
“Well, you know me now.” Miguel flashed what John thought was the most charming smile he had ever encountered. “If you like, I could take you to a few places later tonight.”
“Great!” He made no effort to hide his enthusiasm.
“Okay. I finish work at 1. I hope that isn’t too late for you. Berlin runs all night.”
Without pausing to consider how he was going to manage an all-night excursion, John replied, “No, that’s not too late. I’ll go back to my room and rest a little and come back here at 1.”
“Good. See you later then.” Miguel returned to the restaurant.
+|+ Click to receive our newsletter +|+ Click to share your story +|+
