I go to Munich, together with Billy. There is a two-day conference about the subject our corporation is working on, we don’t have to write anything about it, but to get the “contacts”, Billy says. That means organisers are paying. And so we sit all the day in the conference, exchanging business cards with everyone we meet during the coffee breaks.
I love Munich. It has big wide boulevards where the wind blows abundantly, oak trees in the parks and the streets of bookshops and students.
In the evening I lie to Billy that I have to meet an old friend of mine and sneak out from the conference buffet. We are in the centre and I walk down by the big alley and watch people buying oranges. Then I go to the Mandarin Oriental and take the elevator to the roof terrace. I have been here once with my mum. It is quiet and expensive, people are showing off, but I don’t mind. I love luxury. Luxury fills my veins with unlived memories, it oozes scent of a parallel life that runs somewhere nearby – in paradise.
I order a mohito, already the second one. When I get a bill, it is written in the bottom: You were served by Reiner.