The Crossroads of Logan Michaels

by James Roberts

  •••

  I went on a drug binge for a couple months, but then I needed to focus on not losing my job. I would try to only smoke weed and drink during the work week, especially because I had my trip to Germany coming up that my mother had already bought for my friend and me. My friend Tim had always been close to me; he wasn’t really a jock or a burnout, just a regular guy. I was excited to travel across the world with him; I had never been out of the country. Just to think: it would be me, my old buddy Tim from basketball, Grant who was a popular burnout, and his girlfriend Lexy, all staying at a huge house in Germany—it was going to be a blast. We would be leaving in a couple of weeks and would be visiting there for two full weeks.

  I took work off for those weeks, and honestly didn’t care if I got fired; it was a shit moving company. I packed all of my stuff and counted down the days until I would be in Bonn, Germany. I also had never flown on a plane before, so it was pretty nerve-wracking. I had my friend Tim burn me a couple of CDs for the plane ride, mostly Tupac’s music; he was one of my favorite rappers because I feel like we both had hard lives and, even though his was harder, I felt his pain of being raised by a single mother.

  The fact that I was actually going to Germany made me feel kind of bad. My mother must have paid a fortune of her hard-earned money to send me there for my graduation present. What did I do? Oh yeah, I dropped out and started doing drugs; great kid. Anyway, the time came; I kissed my mother and brother, saying goodbye for two weeks. Tim and I sat in the terminal as I played my Tupac CD and waited to board the plane. My hands were sweaty as I entered the plane; it would be almost a ten-hour flight.

  The takeoff scared me; I turned up the volume on my CD and could feel the beads of sweat accumulate on my forehead. My stomach got tight, and finally we drifted into the air. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep and forget everything. I need this vacation from my awful life, I thought as I closed my eyes.

  “Welcome to Germany!” Holy shit, we’re here, I thought as I immediately looked out the window. Not much of a view, I thought as I saw nothing but plain streets and trees.

  “Logan, let’s go!” Tim yelled. The four of us unloaded our bags from the plane and we walked outside—we were officially in Bonn. I lit up a cigarette and put on my forward-facing, tan Nike hat. The inhale was magical as my lungs filled up with smoke.

  I heard, “Hallo, hier drüben!”

  “What?”

  Lexy knew more German than I did. She said, “Hello, over here. That is Monica; she is going to be taking us to David’s house where you boys will stay and I am staying with her.” I was kind of upset that Lexy wouldn’t be staying with us; I had hoped that we would get drunk and that she would fuck my brains out.

  We all packed into Monica’s small car, which had a stick shift. As we packed in, I looked around and it almost felt like I was in another world. It was such a relief to see a different environment. The trains were everywhere, the streets were old stone roads with no lines, the houses had such different architecture, and even the air smelled different. We arrived at Monica’s home and she brought us in to meet her parents. Lexy was going to stay with her, being the only girl, of course.

  “Hallo!” Monica’s parents smiled and hugged us. They loved Americans; this was amazing to me. All of us guys sat down on the couch and had a cold beer. I had no clue what kind of beer it was, but it was different from what we drank in the US. Her parents welcomed us and chatted as we laughed like young adolescents out of place. After getting a nice buzz on, Monica dropped us off at David’s house.

  “Hallo!” David’s parents opened the door. David’s dad looked exactly like Bob Saget from Full House, so Tim and I cracked up and tapped each other on the shoulder. We always knew what each other was thinking. Their house was a beautiful home with clear, glass walls and polished wooden floors; I had never seen anything like this in the US. It was so much more modern-looking. We walked in the kitchen to see David’s mother; I may have fallen in love today, I thought. Tim’s, Grant’s, and my mouth all dropped to the floor.

  She was an angel sent from heaven. She had on a tight purple t-shirt, which showed her big breasts and she had short, wavy brown hair with streaks of blonde and red. Her lips were covered with purple lipstick to match her sweater, and they were so voluptuous. Her thighs swayed sexily as she came over to us young boys; we all gasped for air. She wrapped her warm arms around us all, awarding us with huge hugs as she kissed us all on the cheeks. We all blushed as the room heated up and I thought, I love Germany!

  We unpacked all of our stuff in the basement as David showed us the room. We threw our stuff on the bed and jumped on each other, screaming with joy and excitement; I didn’t deserve this, I thought. We all called our parents to let them know the flight landed safely and told them that we would be careful.

  The first night in Germany was amazing. It was a bit chilly out, so I put on my American attire. I threw on my dark jeans, white Nikes and my nice tan sweater with my fitted Nike hat. We definitely looked like Americans as we jumped into the German taxi. The driver knew right away and greeted us in English as we arrived in downtown Bonn.

  My knees were shaking with anticipation as we entered this whole new world. For some reason, it felt like I belonged here and I wished that one day I could vanish here and never come back. Girls and guys partied in the streets, the stores were different, and there were sex and marijuana shops out in the open. The restrooms were open, with every sign leading to bars. It almost felt like heaven for us guys. We arrived at the bar called Studio 54 and we all got a table together. Grant ordered shots of Jägermeister for us all.

  “Cheers to the best vacation ever! Again, Cheers! Cheers! Charsrsr!” We all got wasted; Grant fell off the barstool after trying to arm-wrestle some huge German guy. Most of the Germans were laid-back and could drink way more than us, even though I managed to keep up with them. What can I say? I was an American alcoholic.

  “America, America, land of the free, mumble mumble,” Grant sang, wasted; Tim and I carried him down the street. We threw him in the cab and then we all stumbled into David’s house and walked in to see his mom standing there. She looked so fucking amazing, I never realized how badly I wanted an older woman until that day. If I had been coming home this drunk in America, my mother would have killed me, but in Germany, it was the exact opposite. She must have sat us at the table and gave us Fanta and three sauerkraut sausages each. They were amazing, and as she smiled while watching us eat; I became convinced I was in love.

  Morning arrived, and my head felt like it had been smashed with a baseball bat the previous night. “Wake up!” David jumped up and handed us each a beer; it was only ten. Germans drank like fish, but, screw it, I was in Germany, I thought as I grabbed a beer. We all walked to the school that David’s brother, Simon, attended; he was a year older than David. We walked down the streets, having a blast while drinking and smoking cigarettes. Simon’s school was having a play in a couple hours. He said that we could drink while watching the play.

  “Are you fucking serious?” Grant said. Germany just kept getting better and better. We all bought foreign beer at the liquor store and walked up to the school to watch Annie as we drank; this was going to be awesome. No Beer Allowed, the sign said.

  “What the hell, Simon! You told us we could bring beer in?’’

  “You can,” he replied. “Just sneak it in.” We must have been five people away from the security guard as we stuffed five beers down our pants, one in my coat, and another in my pant leg.

  “Next,” the security guard said. We smiled and said, “Hallo” cockily as the guard waved us in. Immediately as I stepped into the school, a beer fell out of my coat pocket, spraying everywhere as we all darted into the hallway. Even in Germany we were causing trouble; we laughed and hid in the bathroom stall. After staying in there for a few minutes, we found our way into the school play. I’d never felt so cool in my life. As we walked in, the room drew to us, since it was clear t
hat we were Americans due to my goatee and forward Nike hat. A smile in the crowd caught my eye and I realized that I couldn’t stop staring.

  Her skin was light, but tan, her eyes were baby-blue, and her hair was short and wavy blonde. Her smile makes Katie’s look crooked, I thought as she grinned at me. I swallowed my tongue and fell in love on sight as she turned, blushing. I had to talk with this girl; what was the worst that could happen? I couldn’t help but stare and as we looked into one another’s eyes, I felt a connection—we had each found our soul mate. The play ended and the crowd scattered, but I kept my eyes on only her.

  “Move,” I said to people in the crowd. “Move, move.” Wait, there she is. Where is she going? Gone; she had vanished. I’ll never see her again, I thought, frustrated as I sipped my beer.

  “Let’s go, Logan,” Lexy said as she grabbed my arm. I had forgotten about her, just like I had forgotten about my dream girl, Katie. There had been so many women that I had fallen in love with—so many women that I’d never had the courage to tell. Another disappointment, Logan, I thought as I walked away.

  “We’re going to some nightclubs tonight,” David said. We went back to his house, showered, and got ready for the clubs; I had already been drunk far earlier than 4 p.m. We arrived at the club around six p.m., and the lights were raving and the girls were dancing sexily. The bouncer let us all in and the girls came up to us to dance and grind.

  “I’m definitely moving to Germany one day,” I told Tim as we took shots and grinded with sexy German girls. Was I dreaming?

  In America, all of the girls I had ever known were stuck up and wouldn’t dance with you unless you owned a BMW and made a six-figure income. In Germany, these girls just wanted to have fun! We all stepped out of the club at midnight to have a cigarette as we met a group of women.

  “Are you Americans?” they asked, smiling. Three beautiful blonde girls; this has to be a dream, I thought as they all smiled with perfect white teeth and stared at us with blue eyes. We all flirted with them, until the fourth one walked over. My heart sank and, even though I was hammered, I got nervous and red.

  “What’s wrong, Logan?” Tim said.

  I awkwardly replied, “Nothing; I’m good.” Then, I remained silent.

  It’s her, I said under my breath.

  “Hallo, I’m Eva,” she said in the most adorable voice as my heart cried for her.

  “Auf Wiedersehen!” they all said, which was goodbye in German. I shook my head in disappointment. My dream girl was right in front of me and I still couldn’t even make a move. I hate myself; I’m such a fucking wimp. I got angry immediately, as I needed to go back into the club and get another drink.

  “No, you’re good,” someone said as my chest was held back.

  “What the hell?”

  “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Fuck you,” I said drunkenly, as I looked up to see the bouncer. He must have been three hundred pounds, and fierce. I said “fuck you” again. The thing about hard liquor was that I thought I was the Incredible Hulk every time I drank it. Tim grabbed me back right before I probably would have gotten rumbled into the ground. He dragged me outside as I cursed and yelled at the bouncer.

  Of course, the night wasn’t over, and we continued on to the next bar. We all stumbled into the bar as the bouncers stared, but somehow let us in. We took shot after shot, grinded with girls, and had a blast. Somehow, I again found myself outside smoking a cigarette, alone. The feeling was scary; it was the knowledge that you’re so fucked up, and you have no clue where you are or how to get home. Now, I would feel like this almost every time I drank; however, this was an even scarier feeling, since I was thousands of miles away from home.

  “Logan!” I turned as Tim found me. “Dude, you disappeared for like three hours; where the fuck have you been?” To this day, I still have no clue what had happened that night, but, apparently, I had disappeared and everyone had been looking everywhere for me. The night ended with a safe bed and a blackout at David’s house.

  We all pretty much slept through the day and chilled downstairs while David went out with his family. “David has a cat?” Grant asked.

  Tim replied, “No, he doesn’t have any pets.”

  “Then what the fuck is that cat doing in our room?” he asked and laughed hysterically. We all must have laughed for hours straight, realizing how drunk we had been last night. We had let a stray cat into the room. We pushed it outside using the pillows, and laughed some more.

  “Last night was nuts,” Grant said. “Logan, what happened to you?”

  “No clue, man” I said as I cracked up. “Good times.”

  After resting for a day, we had Carnival to attend. Carnival was a German tradition where everyone would dress up in costumes and drink in the streets all day. I had needed the day of rest to prepare for this. We started at nine a.m. the next morning.

  “Carnival!” David yelled as he woke us up wearing a costume that I almost couldn’t look at. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he didn’t mind because he looked like a blond German male model with washboard abs. His bottoms consisted of a furry white skirt with disco boots. I know what you’re thinking; I had been wondering the same thing. David wasn’t as flamboyant as he dressed, however; he had a gorgeous girlfriend who didn’t speak English—she would just stare at us, which we found funny.

  We Americans, of course, wore normal clothes; I wasn’t really into dressing up. We roamed the streets and started to drink beer. As we approached the city area of Bonn, the streets filled up with crowds, and the crowds turned into a parade. We marched drunk, singing some song I didn’t know. We shouted and threw beers as we drank. For once, I forgot about my life back at home and felt at peace.

  •••

  A couple days before heading back to the States, we went out to the middle of Bonn. Downtown was packed, and the air smelled so different than in America—I loved it. Tim, Grant, Lexy, and I sat in a back booth, where we started to take shots. The feeling of drunkenness took over my body as my face turned red from the alcohol.

  “Nemo!” Monica, Lexy’s roommate, yelled.

  “Nemo, like the fish,” Tim and I laughed. Nemo was Monica’s boyfriend, which shocked us all as we laughed. He must have been forty years old and she was eighteen, but then again, in Germany, no one cared. I mean, the legal drinking age was eighteen.

  Nemo and Monica joined us to drink as we all got wasted, laughing and enjoying ourselves. Nemo spoke broken English and was kind of hard to understand. He invited Tim and me outside to smoke a joint. “Hell, yeah that’s what I’m talking about,” I said. The best thing about Germany was that we could smoke joints outside the bar, like a cigarette. We passed a joint around, laughing and smoking until it had vanished. Monica came out afterward and told us that she and Nemo were going home.

  Tim and I laughed as we high-fived Nemo, shouting, “Nemo! You’re the man!” The night was coming to an end, so Lexy called a taxi to pick up her and Grant.

  “We will walk,” Tim said.

  “Fuck it,” I said. “I don’t want the night to end; I am higher than heaven.”

  Tim and I remembered the walk. It was so crazy to think that we were walking the streets at three in the morning, high and drunk in Germany. We jumped on the curbs, smoked cigarettes, and shouted German songs like two free souls. After about thirty minutes of walking, Tim and I found ourselves laughing nonstop. Now, this wasn’t like normal laughter: we chuckled and hooted and laughed out loud for ten minutes straight. We had both walked three miles in Germany after smoking angel dust; we found out the next day that Nemo had laced his joint with PCP, and the reason why we had felt so invincible and couldn’t stop laughing was because we had been on a hallucinogen. To this day, no marijuana could ever compare to Nemo’s; it had been the funniest night of my life and I wouldn’t take it back for anything.

  Over the next couple of days, we got hammered in the streets of Germany. I was almost on a two-week drinking binge. The funn
iest part was that I didn’t once try any German food. They had a McDonald’s that Tim and I would go to almost every night. The first time we went was surreal because, of course, we went hammered.

  “Es it Big Mac, und fry,” said the person behind the counter as we both cracked up. The menu was a little different, but everyone in Germany seemed to speak English well anyway. The McDonald’s there was way better: you could drink beer in there and smoke; it was like a fancy restaurant, unlike fast-food chains in America.

  I called my mother on a couple of nights to check in, but didn’t want to ruin my vacation. It was the usual negativity when I called home; I just tried to ignore all of the bad things happening there while I was living the good life abroad.

  Long story short, Germany was a shit show. Tim, Grant, Lexy, and I would piss in the street, since we were drunk almost 24/7; I had almost fought a huge bouncer; Tim and I had smoked angel dust; and I had fallen in love again. The last day there was dismal, especially when David said goodbye and his parents had to drive us back to the airport. We shook David’s father’s hand and David’s mother kissed Tim on the cheek and hugged him. Then, she approached me to give me a tight hug, and she kissed me with her purple lips. Tim laughed as he saw my eyes light up; we both agreed that she was a very attractive older woman. We were all tired on the plane; I closed my eyes, thinking of Eva and hoping that someday love would find me back in Germany, and fate would put us together.

  Chapter 10

  NO FUTURE IN SIGHT

  When we landed on American soil, I wanted to blow my head off—it was rainy and miserable. The air was different; it smelled like darkness and anxiety, but maybe that was just because I knew I was going back to a life I hated. I fell asleep after arriving home; I needed a good night’s rest because I had work the next day at my awful moving company job.

  “Fuck work, I quit. I don’t need this lifestyle,” I decided. So, there was another job I had disappeared from, and I had no clue how to pay the bills. My mother looked worried as I told her that I had quit, but I reassured her that I’d find another job quickly. The problem was that I had no clue what to do. I was a high school dropout, and it made me even more depressed knowing that all of my old friends would be graduating this year. I couldn’t even imagine where I would be ten years from then, if I even made it, and I honestly was not sure if I even wanted to make it.