Marmor, Stein und Eisen bricht

We got the call that Sladdi was in the hospital—not important enough to explain—so we did the dutiful thing and visited him, which was depressing, which is why we ended up at Knaack afterwards. Karaoke in Berlin is always the same crowd: Amy Winehouse devotees with questionable commitment to the look, guys who seem to have stepped directly out of Family Guy, women with absolute certainty that their voice could carry them through any song at two in the morning. It’s beautiful in how thoroughly delusional it all is.

Everyone stayed for different reasons. Sabse was untangling something about her past with some guy—I learned way more than I needed to about her love life that night. Tomi fixated on some woman with an Amy Winehouse beehive and decided she was his entire world for the evening. Me, I stayed because Tomi’s blonde friend showed up with Thai noodles and a sausage, and I watched her eat while people destroyed songs they had no business singing. The noodles looked good. Really good. I had some.

I threw up later. That’s what sharing Thai food at a Berlin karaoke bar at two in the morning gets you.