stillmoves
stories from stills
My Feet was caressing the street

Lost in Karlshorst

Then comes this guy with one eye. I mean, come on, how often in life do you come across a one-eyed man? With a pirate eyepatch to top it off! What? Mythology? Yeah mythology my ass! Who gives a fuck about mythology in Karlshorst back in year 1985? Inside, we are all totally, utterly wasted, Ursula the barkeeper included. He looks at us, speaks in a broken German: “I am Polish! I am lost!” I start to laugh, involuntary at first, then we all burst into laughter. The man is Polish and he is lost in Karlshorst, Berlin! How on earth would that be possible? He could have been a spy of course, but a spy in Beim Dicken of Karlhorst is like a piece of wit in Sachsen!

His story? Well, that was a bit heart-breaking. Let me not spoil your fun tonight. Maybe some other night…