Sexpat and the City: And we frolicked about in our summer skin
by Mr. Sexpat
Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.
“Dear Summer,
How have you been? It’s been many months since I last saw you and I find myself thinking of you often.
I thought I saw you one afternoon last week in Prenzlauer Berg, but when I asked your cousin Winter if you were in back in Berlin she just shrugged. She said you that you guys hadn’t spoken for years and how you’re full of hot air or something…
I’m okay. I’ve been “writing” for some crummy expat blog while trying to get laid – without much success. So pretty much the same as ever, I guess. But I still feel guilty about how we left things last year.
Looking back I realise that I didn’t appreciate you as much as I should have, in the short time that you were around. When you were last in Berlin I was either asleep all day or hungover or whatever… I completely forgot what a great wingman you can be! With your cousin around girls wear far too many layers so I can’t really get a good idea of their physique – and by “physique”, I of course mean tits. Then she’ll say that I shouldn’t be so sexist and objectify women like that.
“It’s what’s inside that counts,” Winter tells me.
“I know,” I reply. “That’s why I’m trying to get inside somebody!”
Don’t get me wrong, I do really like your cousin but you know she can be a total bummer sometimes. She’s just so… cold.
You’ve got to come back soon right? All my female friends think you’re really hot; just the other day one of them asked when I thought you’d be back. When you’re around all the Gorgonites go back to their caves and the hot dames return, gliding in from The Baltic Sea aboard gigantic, gleaming sea oysters pulled by three and a half thousand pygmy unicorns.
If you do come back soon I promise to make more of an effort with you. There are a ton of festivals I want to attend, and we can go on that weekend mini-break to Hamburg we talked about. (I hear the talent there is exquisite… perhaps because it’s that much closer to Scandinavia?) We’ll finally go to Wansee, walk around for hours and hours, and talk about any boring shit you like…
Like I said, it would be great to see you again so, if you’re not still mad at me, give me a shout when you get back. I really miss you and Berlin just isn’t the same without you.
Lots of love,
Mr. Sexpat
PS Spring tells me you should call her asap, you still owe her 20€.”