Diary of an Expat, Part 86
Mindless stuff
Hey hey hey. So this post is late and I worked 14 hours today starting at 730 in the morning so to hell with writing something more substantial.

Yesterday I went clothes shopping again, which is consistently a source of some frustration. German clothes are, shall we say, not designed or fitted for a people who subsist entirely on pork and potatoes. Germany I know that you have fat people -.- Where the hell do they buy their clothes?

Not at Alexanderplatz, it seems.

I did wind up picking up some shoes from Atheist, which is a Berlin atheist shoe collective thing. I've never owned a real pair of shoes before, just random stuff from Kohl's or Target or wherever, so this is a new experience. They're really very nice shoes. They say "Ich bin atheist" (I am an atheist) in the bottom, which I guess makes them the opposite of Jesus sandals.

What I like best about Berlin is that it is the kind of place where such a thing could exist. It is also, for those of you with dirty minds, the home of a group called Fuck for Forests, who has plastered Brunnenstrasse with flyers. I may or may not have mentioned them before; they collect donations for preserving wilderness areas, and in return I presume you get to see them fuck.

You know what Berliners are terrible at, by the way? Queuing.

I don't mean that they dislike it, or that they queue in a way that I am uncomfortable with. I just mean they're bad at it. I can't tell if it's genetic, or if it's something that was stamped out of them after the war, or what, they just don't seem to get how lines work. I have seen:

Four people in a line stare blankly at a newly opened cash register until the fifth, glancing around at the zombie horde of waiting patrons, stepped over
A number (five or six) of people who ignored the register queues to just walk right up to the registers, where the cashiers (naturally) served them, because everything you've heard about German orderliness is a lie
A lady who asked me if I would hold her place in line, and then left the store. Seriously, I watched her walk through the glass doors. She had not returned by the time I got to the register three or four minutes later, so, her loss I guess. That's not how "can you hold this spot" etiquette works, for the record
People looking for returns or complaints ignoring the queue altogether to just boldly stride up to the front of the line and argue with the cashier

For similar reasons they don't seem to be terribly fond of crosswalks.

Anyway, that's about it. I have nothing else to say. I am incredibly tired and going to bed now. Goodnight.
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