Everyone goes to the FischMarkt. To buy potted geraniums.
I wandered in a stupor with my perfectly composed German friend. Had I passed out with everyone else in the U-shaped bar?
Or was I here, browsing through, occasionally commenting on, maybe even considering the price of, potted plants at six
o'clock on a Sunday morning. 'What are you doing here?' I wanted to shout amid a row of yellow nastursiums. 'What am I doing
here?' But all I could do was croak. Then a fiery snapdragon caught my eye and I bent over for a closer look. Very affordable.
Seven o'clock. My friend had to go.
I was about to pass out, and needed somewhere to lie down, fast. "Maybe you should take me
with you?" I suggested.
"My boyfriend wouldn't like that." Oh yes, good point. Very logical, I had to admit as I wandered off through the city
and wondered how long I could sleep on a park bench before someone sold my kidneys. I had no idea
how to find Richard. All of a sudden, cunning plan. I believe I was giggling to myself as I bought a one way train ticket
to Kiel. "Noone will find my kidneys there", and fell fast asleep in the carriage.
Some time later, having had to find a way back to Hamburg, I was in the Shamrock Bar again. "What happened to you?"
"Just popped out to the garden centre. Back now"