After recovering from the night before, we again walked around Frankfurt. When it got a little later, we went out to another club, the Cocoon Club. The entire interweb was abuzz with this club, and it was like nothing I had seen before. It was pretty much a converted warehouse, and once things got going, there had to be about 2,000 people there. Another night of vodka and Red Bull and I am about ready to never drink the stuff again, but it helped prep us for our next stop of the night.
When we left the Cocoon Club, it was relatively early, so we wanted to find another place to go. We heard the one place was pretty cool, so we went there. No dice. So we tried another place that was supposed to have a nice view. Closed as well. Option three was all that was left before going to the pub again. Option three was a strip club called Pure Platinum, and it was probably my third or fourth time ever in a strip club. I would double that number by the time we left Frankfurt, but it just felt like the right place to be at that time.
And that was when I met her. I was sobering up a bit from the club, but still pretty drunk. I was just getting a lay of the land and she initiated contact. I got me a private dance and proposed to her. And thus was born my week-long fake marriage to “Pamela,” the Romanian stripper from Germany. You can read about it here, but I don’t know if it was the alcohol or just my need to “find somebody to love” (Justin Bieber song), but I think I fell for her here, even though the rational side of me kept yelling at the other part of my brain saying that she only cared about my money. And this may have been the case. I can be pretty naïve sometimes I guess.
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