The Wastrel German - Part 5
Tony extended his lengthy, hairy arm across the wood of the desk. His short-sleeved khaki shirt was already damp from the half-morning’s work, and he was in no mood to deal with the swaying, crumbling figure that had been presented to him fifteen minutes ago, and who was refusing to speak English. Maik barely noticed the official’s demeanour, for he had been up all night with a new gaggle of concubines (amateur pimping had also taken his interest of late). Tony did not know about this, and this was just as well, for this German rogue was already giving him a bloody migraine. The form laid out in front of him was like a piece of emotional chewing gum attached to his forehead.
“Name?”
“Michael Dolphschnieder, but nenne mich Maik.” The strain in his muscles prevented his smile.
“Would you care to explain, Herr Dolphschnieder, the gold found inside magnetic cassettes in your rucksack on the ship bound for Singapore.”
“Och, manno. Du bist ja echt ein Scheißer.”
Leave me be, thought Tony. He felt his moustache dampening below his nose. For Jesus’ holy sake, leave me be. A dam burst slowly in his brain, and with his fountain pen still in his hand, he fell asleep, and the sweat from his forehead began to be absorbed into the form in front of him. The ink leaked from his pen, too, but it hardly mattered.
Maik looked down at the wretched figure bent over his desk. „Ach noch ein schwacher Brite. Das ist mal wieder typisch.“ And he turned and left the office. And this was the moral he had learned for the day.
Can you work out any other morals to the story of Maik?
Comments
I am a freshman at an Emirican college near Ohio, taking a German Studies 101 course taught by a person with an MFA in studio art. Basically that means that for class I make designs out of beads and write essays on Hieronymous Bosch. I try to keep current with Germanica, without knowing any German. So, I read Anglofritz almost religiously, at least this semester, then I expound Anglofritzian theories during class, like I'm an expert. It's good fun.
Here is the moral I have come up with from reading the Wastrels so far: "Better to hide precious goods in a body cavity, rather than on casette tape."
P.S. I think "Maik" is an anagram, or else an acronym. Or both!
P.P.S. Maik doesn't really understand the British, does he? I mean, he only gets them the way those snake-catchers and dolphin-petters understand creatures on those TV nature shows.
Sam O.; March 21, 2006 6:13 AM
Thanks Sam, we here at Anglofritz are always glad to help an intelligent and eager student bullshit his way through a class, so that he has time to search out the diviner pleasures of university life. In fact, perhaps you have, aus Versehen, and with your angel wing of youth, brushed the living essence of Anglofritz.
Thanks also for finding a meaning in my meandering.
Oh, if I weren't so weary today I would write an ode to frivolity!
Ben; March 22, 2006 2:53 AM