White Niggers
Chapter 36
Friday, September 6th, 2019, 20:45
Irmgard's flat, Felberstraße 4, 15th district of Vienna
Irmgard's flat is located close to the Western Rail Station and the adjacent Gürtel beltway.
It is the second longest street in Vienna. "Gürtel" means belt in German, and originally this street was called like this because it encircled the inner city like a belt encircles the waist.
Today the belt has a different connotation: Every night hundreds of men take their belts off in brothels located around this street.
Timur remembers that as a child, whenever his father drove down this street, he used to move his eyes away from the neon lights of the brothels and the prostitutes advertising themselves. He was afraid that by looking at them he may desecrate some vital part of his soul.
And now he is in the middle of this citadel of debauchery.
"Please wait for me here. I need to freshen up," Irmgard says to Timur after they enter her flat.
Irmgard disappears in the bathroom. Timur looks around the living room. There is an easel with a painting showing multiple people. One of the women there has only one leg.
Maybe that's some of that modern art that I'm too stupid to understand, Timur thinks.
There are dirty dishes on the coffee table and clumps of dust on the floor. Pants, T-shirts, and underwear lie chaotically on the couch. It is hard to tell whether or not they are clean.
She is a bigger slob than I am, Timur thinks.
Timur sits down and tries not to touch anything.
Irmgard returns. She smiles. She wears a pink bathrobe.
She sits down next to Timur and presses her leg against his. He moves away.
Irmgard puts her arm around Timur's shoulders.
"That painting," Timur says.
He points at the easel.
"What about it?" Irmgard whispers in a guttural voice.
"That woman on the right, I think her second leg is missing," Timur says.
Irmgard stands up and walks to the easel. She looks at the painting.
"Indeed," Irmgard says.
Irmgard opens a can of paint. It fills the room with a plasticky smell. It feels as artificial as her tattoos.
She takes a brush and draws the missing leg. The lines are shaky and the black of the new leg does not match the pink of the other one.
"Does it look right now?" Irmgard says.
"Yes," Timur lies. "I think it is."
How did I end up in this trainwreck of a rendezvous? Timur thinks. Things were going well with Lisa.
His throat gets dry.
"Take a good look," Irmgard says. "Here is a real leg, for you to compare."
Irmgard steps closer and places her foot on the couch, right beside Timur. Timur freezes.
She lifts the hem of her robe. Timur sees her naked leg.
No tattoos on the leg, Timur thinks.
"Don't you want to see the rest?" Irmgard says.
She throws off the bathrobe. It lands on the floor, on clumps of dirt. She goes away from the couch and now stands right in front of Timur, completely naked.
Timur realizes that despite the tattoos and piercings, Irmgard has a body that is at least good enough for fornication.
It could have been worse. Much worse.