It's the World's Birthday Today by Christian "Flake" Lorenz

Author:Christian "Flake" Lorenz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rare Bird Books
Published: 2020-08-03T18:56:44+00:00

III

I’m the last off stage, and I hurry through the halls to catch up with the others. I hear them laughing up ahead and walk faster. Finally I catch up to them. Our security guy walks up ahead to get the people who are standing in the hallways to move aside.

They wave at us and call out something that sounds like “Great show.” We smile and wave back. In the hallway, there’s a table with a pitcher full of juice. The kitchen people put it there for us—they figure a few vitamins couldn’t hurt us. And so we stop here for a moment and drink our cups of juice. Olli asks if anyone wants to go swimming tomorrow. He’s got a nerve. How am I supposed to know that now?

Then we’re back in our dressing rooms, and the door falls shut behind us. We sit down, humming contentedly. Till puts some music on. He’s put together a special playlist for the time right after the concert. This is actually the best moment of the night. Because now I get undressed one article of clothing at a time. First I take my sunglasses off. It’s really very bright here in the dressing room. Then I take off my neckband and my earbuds. Now I can breathe properly again. The fuck shorts are, of course, soaking wet. It makes sense, given that Till was spurting on them for so long. They didn’t even dry out during the rotisserie. But then again, the shorts are made of a strange material that’s slow to dry. I think they might even be made of leather. I can still remember from when I was young what it felt like to get rained on while wearing my Thälmann jacket—that is, a leather jacket like the kind the famous communist Ernst Thälmann used to wear. It stayed wet for days afterward and smelled ripe. I could barely lift it, it was so heavy. Still I kept wearing it. Thankfully my wife finally threw it out. Otherwise I would still be running around in it, looking ridiculous. Though I’d probably feel young and edgy.

Now I take off my boots. They smell like dead dog. The socks are so gross that I just feel like throwing them away. But that’s not how things work around here. Here comes Paulo to collect the stage clothes. He uses a kind of pole with a grabber on it like the people who pick up trash in the park. I don’t have my suit with me. I already took it off backstage. Later, someone will hang it up in the dresser in the foolish hope that it’ll be dry by tomorrow.

I go to take a shower. Olli is already in there. How does he manage to get there before me every night? He stands in front of the mirror and washes the makeup off his face with a makeup remover towelette. I do the same. Earlier I would try to just wash my face with soap, but this way is much faster.

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