Yesterday I began a freelance gig at the offices of the prestigious monthly magazine Off-World Colonies. The coffee is bad but there is a machine that dispenses chocolate-covered almonds for a quarter. There is also lots of free food: today it was pizza and fancy cookies and fruit salad containing blackberries the size of mice. I am told that yesterday there were hanger steaks and fried pears for the people working late. Portraits in many styles line the hallways in which pretty young men roam to and fro, talking about music and cars.
And now, Günter:
I know it's a myth that Ich bin ein Berliner sounded silly to JFK's audience, but it's true that Berliner was (and might still be, for all I know) the name for a kind of jelly doughnut. Just not in Berlin. Maybe Günter is from Stuttgart.