Teacher, feminist, krautrock connoisseur, anime enthusiast, player of video games, occasional modder, intermittent blogger

A drunken name

So there I am with my girlfriend on the station at Naumburg, and I am accosted by an amiable drunk who seems fascinated by the fact I’m English. Fine, whatever, discreetly move to a carriage further up the train when it arrives. But my friend is now moving along the train, and eventually settles not far away, talking to the Russian woman opposite him. I should note at this point that he seems perfectly capable of speaking several languages, and well. Noticing me again, he takes a renewed interest, and proceeds to offer me wisdom relating to a number of issues. First of all, German is a very important language, as so many other European languages are derived from it, and German women are tall.

Next, he tells me that German women are dangerous because they just want a man with a well-paid and steady job. Finally, just before he leaves the train, he tells me that he has just decided on the name of the first son that my girlfriend and I will have together.

Winston Aurelius Maximilian.

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