Soliciting with Ice-cream near Ku’damm

The second time I met her, she was standing near a newspaper-stand on one of those side-streets off Ku’damm, quite close to the French Consulate.


On the first occasion, chance had made us walk together from Beate Uhse’s Erotik-Museum up to the Deutsche Post. Nothing was said then. As she walked away from me that time, I took in the leather pants, the plunging cleavage and the swaying hips.


The second time, I noticed her eyes, mouth and the lines on her face. I could picture her in some crowded small kitchen, kneading dough, brushing aside strands of hair and sweat from her forehead, attending to a husband sitting in his underwear and kids not too sure if they should seek attention.


At the newspaper-stand, I circled around the meager International section. Then, I shifted and stood undecided in front of the soft porn magazines. I turned around and faced her with a surge of boldness.


Did a tinge of amusement flit over those lips? She stood with her weight on the left stiletto and the right leg swayed lightly. She was not a smoker, I had already noted. Her left hand was in the back pocket and the right coyly hooked in the front. She raised her eyebrows at me in acknowledgement. After a few long seconds, she walked towards me slowly.


I was surprised when I heard my voice ask her,
- Hot, isn’t it?
- Yes, bloody hot.
- Care to have ice-cream?
- Where? Some hotel here or at your place?
- Shall we try that place at the corner?
- There? That ice-cream joint?
- Do you have the time?
- What the hell! My legs are aching.


We made our way to the ice-cream parlour. She nodded at the waiters with familiarity and chose a discreet corner. We sat silently till the sundaes arrived.


During that silence, I kept looking at a point on the left side of her neck. Instinctively, she tried to cover that side with her hand, and she asked me,
- Is the strap awry or is it my blouse...torn?
- Pardon?
- What are you staring at?
- Oh! Sorry, I was looking at the mole on your neck. Is it natural?
- Of course.
- It’s cute.
- Thanks.


She started to fidget with her spoon. After a few moments of uneasy silence, she blurted,
- What do you have in mind?
- I would like company.
- One of those Pretty Woman scenarios, is it?
- Ha! Not so rich. An hour or two? A quiet dinner?
- With this outfit, that would be tough.
- How about take away?
- No.
- You can trust me...
- I could, but it’s a silly idea.
- Ok. Then, let’s sit here. Is that fine with you?
- You are not joking, are you?
- No.
- If you want company, shall I call a few of my pals, too?
- No.
- But, there’s nothing to talk.
- Maybe.
- Look, this is weird...I think I will just get back to work, ok?
- Alright. Let’s at least finish this ice-cream together...please...