…I dont really know what she is doing, I mean all that I know is she calls herself an artist… I asked her what are you doing in your studio all day long and then she laughed her smashing, intimidating laugh and said she was felting flowers… which was some sort of way of using the system against itself and changing the world or manipulating the art world... I didnt really get that… the janitor visited her in her studio and stayed for over three hours, he even forgot to pick up his daughter from kindergarden… he insisted they had been talking about art, but I mean the man is a janitor, cmon, this is totally suspicious and not only to me, because people started talking about this, he got into a fight with his wife over her and the whole thing about that studio visit… She is not as beautiful as Helene Fischer but… I mean... she is really different from all the other women I got to know so far. Smart, sharp, makes you feel uneasy out of the blue. Not feminine at all, although she used to dress provocative that summer. Provocative in a slinky, salacious way. No bra and see-through tops and stuff. She was wearing that Harvard Basecap a lot as if she wanted people to really focus on her body; she was hiding her long brown hair underneath that Harvard thing as well as her face. Oh and the leather mini in pearl rosé
– this is not my term, she used it – it was too tight so it tore and she walked up to me on stage and asked me for duct tape and fixed it right in front of my eyes. I mean - she just pulled up that tiny skirt… this was the first time I thought she might be hitting on me. On our first date she called me an asshole, can you believe that? Next time she paid for my ice cream. People were talking about her… they said she is calm and polite but behind that facade one could see something lingering… as if there was something completely different going on in her mind... you really cant tell if she is making fun of you or if shes being dead serious… she asked me stuff about my mother and my car a lot. One afternoon we sat on the porch and I taught her how to differentiate the cars into diesel and benzene by sound and - man, she got it all wrong every single time. I mean, theres a 50/50 chance and she goddamn blew it every single time... as if she would have a talent to choose the wrong... There was absolutely nothing to do but listen to the passing cars… Also I dont know how to think about her mentioning me in that catalogue of hers...the one with the potato on the cover which is supposed to be a desert... too complicated for me. In Hamburg I am going to invite her to the König-der-Löwen musical. When she was in town we wanted to get together to watch a horror movie but we didnt make it. I had to do the renovation after all... I think she was disappointed because she texted me a few times in the middle of the night... There has to be popcorn she insisted. She really likes horror movies, thats what we have in common.