Emotions rule. Ira Lav
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big heavy breasts which she only used to curse when she ran in PE classes – so dangly and heavy they were that they even hurt. But in all other cases, Tanya was extremely proud of them. The pride that was strengthening with each lustful male stare or an envious female glare.
Finally, the girls lost a glimpse of their parents. If they could’ve screamed without frightening the airport staff, they would’ve gladly done it. Instead, Katya began singing as if an opera singer ‘Parents, see you soooooon and freedom, weeee are cooooming!’
Yulya just made a silly-goose dance and jumped forward to the pass control as if she were a ballerina. Pretending to be embarrassed, Tanya said to the security guy, ‘I AM NOT WITH THEM!’ and rolled her eyes up.
Finally, Moscow Duty Free was offering its services to them: Vodka or Tequila would help them celebrate their soon arrival. They chose a huge chocolate bar and Tequila Silver for their dinner in Berlin.
‘Shall we take one or two ciggie cartons?’ Tanya was referring to Yulya with a mocking seriousness.
While Tanya adored the act of smoking in general and treated it as a means of thinking, relaxation, and meditation, Red-haired didn’t much care about inhaling and exhaling the smoke, she just did it to keep a company, because everybody did it, so she never felt real satisfaction in the act. Her elder sister smoked too, but her parents didn’t know Yulya was smoking. They still treated her as their little one. And Red-haired was trying to preserve the corresponding behavior of an ignorant, innocent girl. When they felt the cigarette smell around her, she would always say it was the university girls who had smoked her over, her hair and clothes.
‘I thought you were going to quit, young ladies?’ Katya needed to drop her word in there too.
‘Alright, alright, we’re taking only one carton. One carton should be quite enough for a month. Katya, you should become a damn health coach,’ uttered Tatyana in a fake irritation. And so their trip began.
Berlin. Everything seemed different. Even the air seemed different. The smell of bread and freshly-baked buns greeted them at the airport. In the train from the airport they heard a couple speaking Russian, who appeared to be living in Berlin for a long time already. Katya was holding a note with the address they were to live at and asked if, by any chance, they knew the street.
The couple had a look at the address and uttered, ‘Nope. But we’ll help you to find out when we are at the railway station.’
No one seemed to know where the street was.
‘Look, there’s a city map,’ there came Tanya’s voice.
No such street to be found. The map was enormous. Berlin seemed to be as big as Moscow. Taxi-drivers should know! Beige Mercedes taxis were lining up for their clients. Everyone was asking what district the street was in. But the girls had no idea. No idea the first driver had as well. What about the second one? Alright, at least he managed to find the street on his map. Quite easy to find if one knew that it was in Charlottenburg-Wilmesdorf, West Berlin. And the happy girls put their luggage in the trunk; gave the Russian couple a Russian chocolate bar Alyonka and got into the car with relief. Why it was such a riddle for Berliners to find a street remained a big question.
‘Twenty euros,’ pronounced the taxi-driver. The girls paid and got out. What now?
It took them about twenty minutes to look for the landlady. Not a soul seemed to know where she was. Their first brainstorming idea was to call up all the apartments one by one and ask. They started with the basement.
A tall, brown guy with long arms and fingers, his body wet, wrapped up in a towel, gestured vividly to come in. A broad smile on his face. Yves was his name. He excused his wet appearance as he’d been taking a shower when he’d heard the doorbell ring. He suggested calling the landlady. What a cutie pie! No dangerous crooks so far. He called, told the girls to go to the second building, fourth floor imitating the landlady’s voice melody. The ladies thanked him and left.
Katya volunteered to be a pioneer that day.
‘These walls definitely need some repainting,’ she thought observing the dilapidating walls as she was climbing the stairs with wide steps skipping every second step. She saw an open door, knocked and in she went. The old wizened lady with unkempt grey hair was standing in the middle of the room vacuuming.
‘Hello, are you Frau Wolf?’ yelled Katya to deafen the vacuum cleaner.
The decaying lady turned off the noisy machine, greeted the girl with a fake smile and began telling things about the flat. Katya had to explain that she first needed to call up the other girls and left. The German landlady resumed vacuuming while Katya ran down the stairs in the same hyper mood.
‘Oh my!’ Blondie yelled to the girls. ‘Ancient building with an ancient landlady. The Wolf lady is much more like a Lamb lady, wizened Lamb lady.’
Blondie grabbed her luggage and hauled it to the fourth floor. She went down again to see how little Yulya was handling her luggage, the size of nearly her own height.
‘I’ll help you with your giant stuff. Did you pack your whole wardrobe or what?’ Katya offered a helping hand feeling like Hercules energized with excitement of an adventure.
Evening. Unpacked. Windows wide open. Hot, stuffy air of the apartment was slowly being mixed with transparent waves of a slightly fresh evening of the outside. Fringe was opening the bottle, Blondie fetched the cups (the only drinking vessels they had) and Red-haired was breaking the thick chocolate bar against the table into small squares with loud bangs. After feasting over the chocolate and the booze they were ready to go out.
They popped out with the question ‘Hey…. Anyone knows where the city center is?’
They tried to ask the cute Yves, but nobody answered the doorbell. Luckily, within a minute they bumped into a German lady who happened to be a colleague of theirs, an English teacher! How good of her to offer them a lift to the clubbing district.
The club they chose incredibly sucked. How could they choose the worst club ever in the partying paradise of Berlin clubbing stage? They should’ve asked someone for recommendations or at least read 10 tips to go clubbing in Berlin article in the net. Instead, they stood on the almost empty dance floor, with the music they couldn’t properly move to unless you were high like Johnny Depp’s character in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Some two German chaps approached the ladies and disappointed them as soon as they opened their mouths to speak. Either they were stupidly boring or programmed on a one-night stand small talk. Perhaps both. As if just being there empty-headed but gel-haired would make any girl open her thighs. Do you get horny by looking at a good hair-style and a dumb face? Perhaps sometimes you do. But the girls felt otherwise. That night the Russian trio just wanted to dance the whole night away, to feel their bodies uncontrollably moving to good tunes, meet some pleasant company and stay tuned into the pleasant reality, not get wasted right away with unpredictable consequences, didn’t they? Was it really the adventure they wanted? Or maybe a bit more sensible one?
The ambiance disappointed them. The hyper mood evaporated. And the girls decided not to lose time with the boring male company in the wrongly-chosen club and head home instead and get some sleep before their first day at the language school. If only they knew the way back to their new home. At least, they remembered the name of the street, the district, and the Berlin TV tower they saw from their window. So there couldn’t be a big problem. Three hints would help them to find their way.
On their way back the ladies were making their way through the jolly partying youngsters. Unexpectedly they bumped into two bright-faced Brits. What luck after all! A surely better way to finish the day! Why is it always two specimens of the opposite sex to three of another kind? Not that the girlies were eager to jump in bed with them that very night, but still, who knows, how charming a man might be and how weak a girl