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As an international financial giant, Dusseldorf has a good reputation, backed by the elegant Königsallee shopping street and the revitalized harbour, where big names in architecture have contributed to the buildings. The city also has a land area, and residents and tourists let their hair down and align the local Altbier in the historic Altstadt, which has hundreds of bars. There is an explosion of fun and silliness at Kirmes Fair in July and a public holiday surpassed only by Oktoberfest for scale. And there is such an incredible culture that you may not know where to start: the city has historic residences and parks built by the Imperial Elector, art museums for all ages, cultural centres and medieval churches.


When the sun is out, you may feel that the whole city has decided to come for a walk on this promenade on the right bank of the Rhine. The passage is positioned to return all day throughout the day and bends from the Parliament to the port. The first promenade appeared in the early twentieth century, but only since 1993, when road traffic was diverted underground, was it possible to reach the immediate vicinity of the Rhine. During the summer, the scene is almost Mediterranean, the way the facades shine in the sun at sunset, and the long rows of terraces of restaurants and cafes are full of people talking, and sexy girls walking. At Burgplatz, there is a staircase where people park to read books in the sun and sweets on the water for cruises on the Rhine.

Happy for the moment: why you can hardly expect anything from Dusseldorf when it comes to love?

I live in Dusseldorf, and I was also born here. This makes me one of the rare specimens of more or less exotic contemporaries who neither understand the hype nor want to participate in it. There were also excessive party nights, but they ended at 27 and not just at 42. In general, my path in life was never straight, but that of my school friends from back then was very good. School, graduation, training, job, children and marriage. A possible move to the central area is not excluded. On the other hand, I got a pixie cut at twenty, rebelled against my good grades and my family’s expectations, and became a mother at twenty-one. Single parents, of course.

Because while others dreamed of quickly slipping into the nest that had been made, I hung out online about the big questions of this world and philosophized through all heads and beds. I fell in love with many musicians and hoped my thirst for new experiences would be quenched. The typical stink Ostpocke (my mother always called us former GDR citizens) wanted to get married, raise a lovely old apartment in Dusseldorf and raise three children. Still, on the other hand, my pulse had always been 90 beats a minute, so should I do something else?

I got to know people, celebrated, rested, absorbed the city like a sponge and slipped from one drama to the next. When I talk to friends today, all of them from other cities, with a few exceptions, look down at their coffee with desolate looks, stammer about the injustice of never finding love in Dusseldorf and yet they never aim for a career at the bank. And above all, there is the desire to finally find out where the journey will take us in our mid-30s and, above all: with whom. After that, I join this Escort Service!

Instead, we proudly wear our hipster high-waist and tweak our symmetrical corded bangs. We’ve become our caricature – what the city is said to expect. You can see our pictures in a blog about Dusseldorf and its scene multipliers. It’s true to style with a broad grin on your face or melancholy because it’s Tuesday or laundry day or just not child-free. And above all, hovers the desire to finally find out in the mid-30s where the journey is going and, above all: with whom. Of course, I, too, told myself that I wasn’t ambivalent and that I wasn’t acting like it either. Now an elegant escort, and mom of two, I long for everyday life, a shoulder to lean on and a companion for the rest of the way. I still prefer to click on the drummers, the philosophers, the sad and the heartbreakers.

My Dusseldorf miracle under your armpits.

Before Christmas, I was looking for a man who would carry all the heaviness of this world on his forehead. Three earrings dangled from his left ear and harmonized perfectly with my nose ring. We alternated between his bed and mine for five intense dates, and he whispered the loveliest compliments in Hebrew to my ear. Oh yes, Fraulein, you are so from (what we think is) Dusseldorf! But as he became more and more aware that the wild musical life would have to go on again after the pandemic, I dug my nose deeper into his armpit and dreamed of the Dusseldorf miracle. My own, of course.
I dreamed of the Dusseldorf miracle. The idea of having finally found the person here in a fantastic way, who proves us all lies. Which feels like Dusseldorf in 1999 and not in 2021.

The idea of having finally found the person here in a fantastic way, who proves us all lies. Who feels like Dusseldorf in 1999 and not 2021. Who at some point sat in his children’s room and must have dreamed of me, his future great love, just as I dreamed of him before the capital explained to me that daydreams had no place here. I tousled his hair, he told me how beautiful I was, we sat on his sofa in our sweatpants listening to tons of music, and all I was was very happy for the moment. You can’t expect more from this city.

A cup of cocoa together from the onboard restaurant: if we are brave and speak to strangers

Just stow away the suitcase, and then it’s off to the sea for him. They were facing the sea breeze. His best mate is getting married with sand between his feet in a few days, and he’s going to be his best man. They have felt the sand between their feet together since kindergarten. They built the enormous sandcastle their daycare centre had ever seen back then. Even when they parted ways for their studies, they never lost touch—a real sandbox friendship.

Both have a long-distance weekend relationship. It’s worth the sacrifice for your career, they say and secretly lie to themselves. He is travelling solo. He doesn’t think much of dating apps anymore. He has had too many weird experiences there over time, and on his dates, his gaze wanders through the half-empty train compartment. He gets stuck with a young german girl with glasses and fawn-coloured shoulder-length hair. She sits diagonally across from him down the aisle. He likes her and wonders if he should talk to her. She is engrossed in a book and the thought of her boyfriend. He works by the sea for a university. Both have a long-distance weekend relationship. It’s worth the sacrifice for your career, they say and secretly lie to themselves. They don’t want to admit that this thing with the long-distance relationship isn’t working after more than five years.

A departure in the train compartment

After a few minutes, he gathers his courage. He gets up and walks towards her, only to walk past her at the last moment. His ass is rocking the ground. It’s kind of easier with dating apps, he babbles. Cocoa will undoubtedly help him, and he goes to the onboard restaurant to drink courage. After a few sips of liquid happiness, he speaks to her with what he considers to be the perfect first few words.

“Hello, where are you going?”

She reacts annoyed and pissed off at his friendly approach. If this guy doesn’t see the ring on her finger, she thinks to herself and clarifies, “I have a boyfriend!” and points to the ring on her left index finger. As if it were the unmistakable symbol that a pretty girl is in a relationship. He tries to apologize, but his words are lost in her shaking of the head. He had not received such a basket for a long time. He thinks the weird dates through the dating app were somehow even better. Slightly bruised and wholly bewildered, he goes back to his seat and tries not to let the basket show. “Arrogant goat,” he murmurs to himself.

When courage takes over

A red-haired, shy-looking young woman followed this scene. He hasn’t noticed her yet, as she sits diagonally behind him and sips her cocoa. From there, she could watch everything without being seen. She likes him in his favourite worn-out sneakers, the blue hoodie and the short street red hair. She can empathize with him so well. A few weeks ago, she got a similarly shitty turn-down from a guy. He said dryly that she was probably suitable for mattress sports but not for more. She is looking for something with substance. She doesn’t want interchangeable mattress contacts.

She is impressed by his courage and how he deals with the removal. Approaching a man is like an insurmountable hurdle for them. On the other hand, explaining quantum mechanics in Klingon is still easy for them. His self-confident demeanour and courage seem to set something in her. If he can, why can’t she? Just be brave, goes through her head. He certainly wouldn’t give her such a shitty basket. Of that, she is sure. She also thinks it sucks that the woman rejected him like that. A “Hey, thanks for your courage. However, I have a friend that I am going to visit. Keep trying!” it would have worked in the end, she thinks to herself. Respectful and friendly instead of reacting immediately in a destructive manner.

New beginnings with heavenly cocoa

After a short chat with her sister, who is three years older than her, she concludes that she will talk to him. Farewell to gender stereotypes, according to which men must always address women. She likes him. She doesn’t want to miss this opportunity. For far too long and far too often, she has not dared to speak to the men she likes. How should she address him? She is so nervous and excited. Luckily he wouldn’t see her sweat stains under her blue cardigan. Her sister advises her that she should sit down with him and have cocoa over the phone. “And what if he doesn’t tolerate lactose?” she asks her big sister insecurely. “Well then, if in doubt, you have two cocoas for yourself, you chocoholic,” jokes her sister.

She goes to him with two hot chocolates from the onboard restaurant. “Hello, I saw how the woman over there reacted to you earlier. That wasn’t right of her. I brought you cocoa if you like.”
You start talking about endless things. They speak for the rest of the train ride. Where exactly they are going is not mentioned. He is visibly happy about her, her friendly nature and the cocoa. He just drank his own to beat the basket on Ex. He is not lactose intolerant. After a few seconds, little is to be felt of her shyness. You start talking about endless things. They speak for the rest of the train ride.

Where exactly they are going is not mentioned. Only a short “to the sea, to visit dear people” is mentioned in passing. Too many other issues seem essential right now. They both exchange the number because they want to see each other again for a cup of cocoa. The only thing they don’t know is when because their calendars stayed on the banks of the Spree. Both of them don’t know that they will unexpectedly meet again at a wedding. Her sister is the enigmatic girl his best friend will marry in a few days. Is there cocoa there? Who knows, if not the two of them.

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