From Writhe’s journal:

Tonight is the night I was supposed to meet Anke at the club here in Berlin. I hung out at the hostel before I went out because I knew I didn’t want to be late. In my nervousness, I ate a bunch of pretzels at the front desk and drew a bunch of pictures on their unfinished desktop out of some of the comics I purchased the other day. I watched people play cards and backgammon. One of the girls wanted to listen to Rammstein and said “Writhe wants to listen to them too!” So we joined in a chant during the chorus. I got ready for the club and that same girl saw me as I was leaving and was like, “Woo! Sexy!” I should have asked her to come out to the club with me. Although, since I was supposed to meet up with Anke, I would feel bad ditching her to go off somewhere else.

I took a different route to Schleisses Tor and stared back at people on the train. Arrived at my destination, looked around for the club, and couldn’t find it. It turns out that it’s directly beneath the train station. I go in and I’m one of the first people there. I feel like an idiot arriving so early. I should know by now that I need to get to clubs right before peak hours, you know, make an entrance or whatever. Pshh, who am I kidding. I spend my first couple hours talking to the door people, the DJ and his girlfriend. The DJ is a singer in a band that plays tomorrow. I try to get a CD from him of his band but he wants 25 Marks for it. I stall and he offers it for 20 which is what he paid for each. I promise him that I’ll play it at the Bastille when I get back to the States. I end up talking to another guy who knows English pretty well about different views on goth in the States. I get two drinks, Berlinerweisers. Then I get a shot, a B-52. It was on fire. The I get another beer because I really want to dance and people are actually there. So I end up getting a Becks, which tastes like skunk piss.

The club is pretty cool. They play mostly slower music – nothing too harsh – a little techno/ebm mixed in. The songs are blended into each other along with other small sound bytes of other music. I suppose the DJ is trying to create an atmosphere. It’s a large club with a large dance floor. There are tables and chairs all around and a platform around the dance floor. Almost everyone here is wearing all black, except some of the normals and me. I think that people are kind of afraid to stick out here as they don’t wear anything too extravagant or showy. People dance slow to the music. One girl seems really snobby while she dances.

It’s getting pretty late and I’m starting to get tired. Tired of the slow music, tired of not having the energy to dance even though I’m tipsy, tired from the same conversations I seem to be having everywhere I go.

And then Anke walks in.