Falling in Love in West Berlin #3: The First Night Out in the Berlin Nightlife
Being gay or not gay becomes irrelevant
John arrived in the Paris Bar at 12:45 am and sat at a table in the front. He was excited about the adventure he was about to set out on into the Berlin nightlife. But he realized that what he looked forward to the most was spending a few hours in Miguel’s company. He saw him clearing dishes from a table and getting ready to finish work. Miguel looked towards the front of the bar and saw John. He smiled at him broadly, raising his finger to indicate he would be ready soon. A few minutes later, Miguel took off his apron and removed his black vest, hanging both up on a hook in the back. He then walked up to John.
“Are you ready to explore the infamous Berlin nightlife?”
“Yes, I am!” John expressed enthusiastically.
He couldn’t help but admire how handsome Miguel was in his white shirt and black pants. His dark complexion and beautiful brown eyes were intense and glowing in stark contrast with the bright shirt. It was a warm night and the two top buttons of Miguel’s shirt were open, revealing black chest hair. John tried to be discreet, and Miguel didn’t appear to notice his keen attention.
“There’s a taxi stand around the corner. Our first stop isn’t really far.”
“Great.”
John followed Miguel out the door and they walked to the taxi stand. John began to relax and simply allow the night to unfold.
The Back Stage was crowded, noisy, and very smoky. John coughed upon entering. Miguel led him to the L-shaped bar where most of the people were gathered, some sitting on stools, others just standing nearby. John looked at the people who were mostly young and, he thought, not particularly unusual in their appearance.
“What would you like to drink, John?”
“Oh…hm…I think I’ll have a glass of white wine. It will give me some energy.”
“That’s good, I wouldn’t want you to fade away,” Miguel smiled.
John looked at the bartender, who was tall with long curly hair that hung down nearly to his shoulders. But what struck him the most about his appearance was that he was dressed in women’s clothing. Yet, he didn’t seem to be interested in cultivating a feminine gait; in fact, he walked behind the bar in a very masculine manner, somewhat like a truck driver. John shrugged and thought, ‘Well, it’s Berlin, after all.’
The bartender laid two glasses of wine on the bar, and Miguel handed one to John. He held up his glass and John did the same.
“Salud, my friend.”
“Salud!” John clinked his glass with Miguel’s.
“Hallo, Miguel.” An attractive German woman suddenly appeared.
“Hello, Ursula.” Miguel then turned to John. “I would like to introduce you to my friend, John, a fellow American.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ursula put out her hand.
“Same here.” He shook her hand and was surprised how firm her handshake was.
Ursula then focused her attention on Miguel, and they embarked on a lengthy conversation. John didn’t know what to do with himself. So he moved slightly away from the bar and just looked around. He soon found himself in conversation with a German student, Hans, who was eager to practice his English. John put on a brave face and patiently endured the man’s monologue in mostly comprehensible English. He looked towards the bar and saw that Miguel was completely occupied in speaking with Ursula. He seemed to have forgotten that John was there.
John was just about to tell Hans that he needed to use the toilet as a means of getting away from him when Miguel suddenly appeared.
“Sorry, John,” said Miguel, tapping him gently on the shoulder. “Ursula has a habit of grabbing my attention and it’s difficult to break away from her.”
“That’s okay, I understand.”
John chatted with Miguel, collecting and offering some background information. He learned Miguel was 31, born in Barcelona to a Spanish mother and American father. The latter then convinced his wife to move with the infant, Miguel, to L. A., which was the father’s home city. When he revealed to Miguel he was 24 and didn’t know what to do with his life, Miguel suggested he be open to possibilities and not pressure himself to make a decision until he was ready.
“I’ve thought about being a teacher, either at high school or college. Or maybe becoming a priest.” John shrugged.
“I bet you can come up with something more exciting than either of those two choices,” Miguel laughed.
“Don’t you have a career goal?”
“Yes, I do. To be happy. God created us to be happy,” Miguel’s eyes glittered even in the dimly lit room. John was so enchanted by Miguel’s carefree attitude that he could see himself following his philosophy. They were silent for a while. Then Miguel said, “Are you ready for the next place?”
“Sure.”
John collapsed on his bed at 6:30am but he was too stimulated to fall asleep. The loud music from “Mink,” the subterranean bar which, according to Miguel, was the hub of the Berlin nightlife, was still resounding in his head. He replayed in his mind everything he experienced that night, especially every interaction with Miguel, recalling every facial expression. John endeavored to determine what Miguel’s feelings were towards him. He wondered, ‘Did he see me as just an American acquaintance to go to a bar with? Did he suspect that I was strongly attracted to him?’ John realized that he really did not enjoy hanging out in noisy, smoky bars, making small talk with Germans trying to practice their English.
John waited two days before going back to the Paris Bar. He wanted to test his resistance to the magnetic pull that Miguel had over him. He then decided to stop by in the early evening just to read and drink a coffee. After sitting down at his usual table, John opened Joyce’s coming-of-age novel. He hadn’t gotten very far, for he found it so difficult to focus his mind on it in Berlin. Miguel came directly over.
“Hey, John. I hope the night wasn’t too much for you.”
John’s attempted resistance to Miguel during the last two days melted on the spot.
“No, Miguel, I enjoyed it.” He tried to sound sincere. “I just needed a couple of days to recuperate. I’m not a night person.”
“Really? I actually prefer the night, especially in Berlin. This city is much more appealing by night.” Miguel chuckled softly.
“I guess Berlin does have that reputation from the 1920s.”
“Well, yeah, but that Berlin is long dead.” Miguel stood for a moment. John had the impression he was in the process of making a decision. “Say, are you up for another night excursion?”
“Uh…yes…I’m up for it.” John smiled at Miguel, who returned the gesture. John was mesmerized by his sparkling brown eyes that seemed to smile along with his mouth.
“Great. Tonight I’m free at midnight, so we can begin a little earlier.”
“Okay, I’ll come back later. But I’ll stay now for a while and drink a cup of coffee to get me fueled for the night.” John laughed lightly.
“Coming up.” Miguel went to the bar and came back right away with a cup of coffee. Placing it on the table in front of John, he said, “It’s on the house.”
“Thanks, Miguel.”
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