The S5
Sunday around noon on the S5, packed car between Jannowitzbrücke and Ostbahnhof. A 36-year-old woman is giving her 38-year-old friend a blowjob. Kids are somewhere on the train, tourists are around, and she’s just going for it—no hesitation, mouth working, dick out in public. Commitment to the act. I’ll give her that.
An 18-year-old passenger says something. Tells them to stop. This is where the woman decides to become a problem. Instead of pulling up his pants and shuffling away embarrassed, she goes feral. Curses the girl out, then hits her square in the face. The boyfriend jumps in, starts punching the girl’s 19-year-old friend. The woman’s partner joins the fight. Three on two in a moving train car, and nobody’s backing down.
Someone pulls the emergency brake when they hit Ostbahnhof. A witness actually grabbed one of the guys—held him by the shirt while his dick was still hanging out of his pants, keeping him from lunging back. The kids got bruised, scratched up, nothing serious. The couple ran. Cops found the woman from the footage, her boyfriend turned himself in. The usual charges: public indecency, assault, insult.
What strikes me is how fast it turned. Not the sex itself—fine, people are animals, people are horny, I get it. But the violence. The absolute refusal to feel caught or embarrassed or wrong. Just go straight to throwing punches at teenagers. The entitlement is staggering. Like being interrupted was the transgression, not them fucking six inches from someone’s child.
Berlin’s got this reputation for not giving a shit what you do. Maybe that’s real. Or maybe it means you can do whatever you want until someone has the nerve to call you on it, and then it’s a free-for-all. I’ve been in cities where everybody minds their own business, and I’ve been in places where the response to any chaos is immediate and brutal. Berlin splits the difference—anything goes until it doesn’t, then suddenly you’re on the floor bleeding and the cops are asking questions.
The couple probably got fined or community service. They’re still together, probably. Maybe they found a better spot—a parked car, somewhere dark, somewhere they won’t get interrupted. Maybe they stopped doing it entirely. I have no idea. What I know is the S5 was packed again the next day with fresh passengers in the same seats, nobody thinking about what happened there, and whatever they left behind got wiped clean by someone who doesn’t ask questions.