Last night in Glasgow I met a very pleasant girl named Kristina from Vancouver, who I went out for too many drinks with. In the process of drinking our way through the city she told me an interesting story about her German boyfriend's father.
One of the first things that you would notice about this man upon meeting him, apparently, is that he has two tattoos. One on each forearm. Both are of women's names, but one is crossed out. It seems that the night the wall went up this man and his then girlfriend were on opposite sides of town. He was at home and she was at work in a restaurant. They never saw each other again. Separated by the wall for so many years, the man eventually met his wife, crossed out the one name and added the new one. When the wall came down it had been so long that the man had no way of knowing how to get in contact with his old girlfriend. Clearly it is safe to say that even if he is happily married he will never forget her. I wonder if they will ever meet again?
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2 comments:
Hmmmm... screenplay? That's a beautiful story - you can only imagine the injustices she experienced and the life she had to lead in the east. (I assumed she was in the east.) And how he or we would think those things changed her. Which in itself is interesting, but I suppose from our western perspective, she was the one who was changed, the one who didn't get to live the way she might have wanted. Let's write a screenplay, Jess, maybe we can somehow manipulate the story to have a scene with tableaux vivants - perhaps they meet there? Although it might cheapen it a little...
Can I say that your love for tableaux vivants totally outweights my crazy love for church ceilings.
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