As I began writing about West German Boy (West Bub), I realised that he’s a lot like East Bub and considered writing about some other nationality first, like an Australian, or the Czech Boy. However, this would require my chapters to go: I, IIa, III, IIb. My OCD won’t allow for such a break in numerical sequence.
Every German man reading my descriptions of a handsome, funny guy who is good in bed will naturally assume I’m talking about them, so I’m not worried about this particular German recognising himself. That’s one of the best things about Germans though, their confidence and assertiveness. West Bub simply came up and kissed me in the middle of a club one night. Cheeky, but effective.
The kissing incident wasn’t the first encounter we had, of course. We met earlier that night at a Christmas party. If I’m completely honest, it was not love at first sight. Or lust at first sight. It was definitely entertained at first sight though. West Bub was, in school terms, the class clown. Loud, drunk, and hilarious, he made everyone laugh. He was centre of attention, which doesn’t always suit me, as I like to be centre of attention, but it wasn’t long before we were both the centre of attention, dancing and making out in front of everyone in the club we had stumbled into after the party. Him: big, German, and wearing a Santa hat, and me: wearing a headband with mistletoe attached to it, were quite a sight on our own – but together we were one hot mess.
Eventually it was time to evacuate the dance floor and make our public displays of affection a little more private. Since it was December, and therefore about ten degrees too cold for the outfit I was wearing, West Bub hailed us a taxi back to mine. Having decorated my room with Christmas lights, the room had a festive ambiance, despite us having ditched our headwear. When I suggested we put on Christmas music he enthusiastically agreed and now every time I hear “All I Want for Christmas is You” I can’t help but be a little turned on.How it never came up in conversation before the next morning is beyond me, but West Bub is not at my uni. He was just visiting a friend, so should we ever wish to sleep together again it would require a bit of travel on one of our parts. Luckily for me, West Bub enjoys traveling. And now he always has a bed to sleep in when he’s in town … as long as he agrees to wear the santa hat.