Berlin’s Top Models

BERLIN - It’s like clockwork.

I’ll be at the Lining Bar, one of the Berlin’s sexiest bars, one where you can really splurge. The white silk of the bed on which I’ll be reclining on shines flourescently in the soft blue light spilling out from behind the bar. The way I’ll be lying there sipping my Singapore Sling, watching a plethora of scantily clad women milling around the bar will remind me of pool parties at the Mandalay Bay that I’ve never been to. I’ll be radiating sexuality and confidence with the seductive way I wrap my lips around the straw of my next drink, a Vodka Gimlet. All the while The DJ will have been spinning something appropriately minimalist, something that’ll make you feel really sophisticated and avant garde in a European kind of way.

Unfortunately, the beer is fucking expensive—fun at this bar comes at a steep price.

I’ll mentally congratulate myself for rolling three dudes deep into a relatively exclusive bar. I will have weaseled past the bouncer the same way I always do when I don’t have women with me: by having a fake cell phone conversation with mythical girl friends who are already “inside the bar.” At first, the bouncer will remain unconvinced and act as if he’s superior to me in life; but, as my fake outrage builds and I inform someone named Lauren that “this meathead isn’t letting me in – apologize to the rest of the girls and tell them I guess I’ll see them at the photo shoot tomorrow,” he’ll eventually realize how sick I am and relent by opening the door.

Once inside, me and my two friends will most likely sit around like pussies, slamming back drinks like that was all we wanted to do anyways. We’ll assure each other that “we’re all good for right now” and that we’re “scoping” a floor that is, admittedly, fairly target rich.

3 o’clock—huge tits. I’m all over that.

Whatever, man. I’m just here to have a good time.

Eventually, while getting my third cocktail at the bar, I’ll unleash my favorite bar move: the Bump In. I’ll graze the arm of a pretty blond reaching for my Caipirinha, apologize in English, and she’ll be hooked like a fish. And lately, it seems like this girl is always stunning and after exchanging some inane chit chat, she’ll invariably tell me that she works for a modeling agency.

Five months ago:

Whoo hoo! I was talking to a model. And she was loving it. She was enthralled by the fact that I apparently had extensive, possibly exploitable connections with modeling agencies back in LA. She flicked her hair when I casually dropped the hint that I regularly party with Zac Efron. And she was really digging my striped Ralph Lauren shirt.

I caught a glimpse of my friend Mark sitting alone over her shoulder—his envy was palpable and I reveled in it. My model was melting like Bill Buckner under pressure. I didn’t know I was this charming, but apparently I was. Naturally I was elated at the prospect of snagging this sweet piece of pussy; what kid hasn’t dreamed of bagging a beautiful model and then letting all of his friends know about it on a consistent basis? That my game wasn’t absolutely On Fire never really occurred to me.

After a while, the conversation got deep and meaningful.

“So what kind of modeling do you do?” I asked her.

She was surprisingly non-committal, brushing my question aside with a hand wave and an Oh, you know. She continued pressing me for an account of the night life at the Playboy Mansion.

No, seriously, have I seen you in anything? What kind of modeling do you do? I reiterated after telling her about Hef’s Grotto.

(Pregnant pause.)

Oh you know. she began coyly. I just make people happy.

Ok, Kind of a weird response, I thought to myself, a bit confused. But she was insanely gorgeous and, even though she evidently wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, I still wanted to nail her, so we kept talking.

Yeah, that’s my boss over there. she said after a few minutes, pointing to a hulking man with a massive gold necklace who was eying me ominously. He looks out for me.

What, like he manages your photo shoots and stuff? I was rolling around in my own ignorance.

She looked me square in the eyes.

(Another pregnant pause.)

No. she said flatly. Her boss came over and put his arm around her and shot me a threatening glance; I thought I saw my model looking at him with a mixture of awe and fear in her eyes.

It clicked: This ain’t no regular office party.

Almost completely overcome with despair and disappointment, when I slumped down beside Mark and he asked me what had happened, why I wasn’t currently fucking the model in the bathroom, I nearly cried. All I told him was that the girl was a huge tease who already had a movie star boyfriend…

Now

That was a while ago. Right now, I’m back at the Lining Bar, ready to dominate The Scene. Adaptability is for winners and, as I’m playing around with the young professional crowd, my alias is firmly in place—Investment Banking is so much more captivating than studying abroad.

I Bump Into a striking brunette while picking up my Long Island. With stunning originality, she asks me what I’m doing here in Berlin. The Hugo Boss insignia on my left proves that I’m not lying when I say Investment Banker—Deutsche Bank and she reciprocates by telling me that she works in a modeling agency.

Oh no—Nice try, but I’m too smart for that shit now. Too smart to be taken in by that shameful, yet apparently standard, euphemism. I spot all the familiar signs: the slight wrinkles in her eyes, the taught skin, the excess of makeup that puts a lively sheen on a shell of woman. Unsurprisingly, her boss or agent or whatever is loitering at the other end of the bar.

I don’t say what I did last time I talked to a model at this bar—So I’m guessing there’s no chance you’d be interested in sex on your night off?—nor do I probe her daily routine again. I already know the answers: Not necessarily…(seductive smile) and 500 euros on a good day, respectively. I simply say No thanks, and move on.

So next time there’s some drop dead gorgeous bitch with an unnaturally deep tan, fake breasts popping out of a fake Gucci shirt, who tells you she’s a model, all the while loving every word you say—don’t you believe her. You’re not that big of a stud.

For better or worse, I have a penchant for free and I’ll collect my friends and move on to the next bar. On the pavement, walking to the Bellini Lounge under the inviting gaze of several 6 foot bombshells, I hear one of them saying to a fat, hairy man:

If you really like fun and hand-jobs, you’d pay the 270.

Upon further reflection, I realize that I like both fun and hand-jobs. But after investing in Bear Stearns, I’m fucking broke.

4 Responses to “Berlin’s Top Models”

1. Jiggy Jiggy J Mouse says:

   July 17, 2009 at 5:45 pm

   You are such a misogynist! You need to learn to respect these women who are only out there in a cold world that forces them into these horrid occupations! If I were a woman, David, I would slap you in the face! You don’t deserve any woman! What a horrible person you are!
2. Jay Madbroni says:

   July 21, 2009 at 1:19 pm

   Jiggy Jiggy J Mouse,

   To call David a misogynist is an unfounded accusation to the grossest degree. These women make a MORAL decision to do what they do. This is GERMANY not some third world country. Germans hate anyone who has a strong work ethic and the ability to more money than they do and therefore pour piles of money into programs that give handouts to lazy degenerates who never decided to get a job or an education. These RIDICULOUS handouts are available to everyone therefore negating the need to immorally sell one’s body on the streets of Berlin. These prostitutes prey on the unholy vices of weak mortals who when confronted with the face of lust succumb to its perverse and awesome power. Prostitution is a disease and must be stopped. David is a saint for spreading awareness of these merciless vixens.
3. Berlin Travel says:

   July 21, 2009 at 11:31 pm

   Thanks for sharing this information. Berlin is most visited place in germany. Zagreus Projekt is a beautiful art gallery in berlin. Enjoy dancing at chic profligate night club. The Berlinomat store has many things like clothing, accessories, home furnishings, ornaments all under one roof.Enjoy dinner at the Bar jeder Vernunft. For more details refer http://www.journeyidea.com/berlin-city-travel-the-green-fairy-haven/
4. lucyrose says:

   March 7, 2010 at 2:59 am

   your stories are awesome; honest and entertaining in its own light.