Character Sketch: Flo

Or: Too Many Uses of the Word "Goth"

Visited Flo, my oft-mentioned goth former exchange student, this weekend. He's got a very nice one-bedroom apartment in Leipzig. He's studying Chinese (one of the most inefficient languages in the world) but doesn't know what else he's going to major in. He's still thinking about going to film school, once he's done with college. He just got back from two months in Japan. He can cook several different varieties of oriental food, including the best Thai food I've ever had. He finally bought himself a computer. He's learning some obscure martial art. He doesn't have a girlfriend at the moment, as he's trying to avoid falling into an "outpost relationship" in a new city.

That's what's new with Flo.

I didn't take any pictures of Flo, mainly because I feel awkward photographing people and I know that Flo hates posing for pictures.

He looks, for what it's worth, prettymuch the same. Which means: like a successful east-european arms dealer. Black clothing, big brown coat. Shaved head, big black eyebrows over shifty, mischevious eyes. Years of mandatory school sports and voluntary martial-arts training have made him somewhat built.

Flo's best quality (most of his German friends would agree) is his ability to bring out, conversationally, the best in people. I've never had an uninteresting or normal conversation with Flo; we talked about the state of modern American culture, exotic languages, H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu stories and the RPG they spawned, and the strange truths behind west indian voodoo.

(Read the Haitian constitution sometime, advises Flo, if you don't believe in zombies.)

Like me, he's still interested in RPGs; unlike me, he still plays. His friends run the social gamut from straight-edge to grudge to goth, but that's pretty normal; German subcultures to be much less cliquey than ours. At the very cool, very gothic clubs we went to, no one cared that I'd forgotten to bring black clothing and, to put it in Flo's own words, "looked like a skater."

(Hopefully I'm not actually pulling that look off, as I have no desire to be thus pigeonholed. I'd rather stay with the worldwide fellowship of nerds and geeks, if I'm going to be an involutary member of some stereotypical social group. Plus, I'd like to point out that I'm not even coordinated enough to walk, much less skate.)

Back to Leipzig. Flo's friend Domi, a lanky type slightly more partial to spikes and leather than my exchange student, was also visiting Flo that weekend. I'd never met Domi while I was in Konstanz, which is suprising, but he's an alright guy.

We talked about mutual acquaintances from Konstanz. It seems that Simon (occasionally known as Pseudosym), one of my favorite Germans, took the old Millerian "don't let other people waste your time" philosophy to a new level, and is now making up for a year of school he didn't attend. Killian, another old acquaintance, is still Killian: an equally funny turn of events.

The first night was a bust, more or less. We each had a bottle of Tannenzapfle (or simply "zapfle"), a beer made from pinecones, along with some good homemade japanese food, then sat around until midnight talking, rather than show up at an empty club. That was probably the highlight of the night.

Then we went to a bad concert at a (I'm taking Flo's word on this) normally chill and relatively mainstream club built into the ruins of a 16th century fortress. Flo had planned a "normal" night and a "goth" night, but the club was invested with goths on account of the aforementioned bad concert.

Since even Flo and Domi, though used to hearing mumbled English lyrics set to heavy bass, thought that the concert was crap, we left as soon as it became clear that there would be no D.J. that night. We wandered (unsuccessfuly) around town looking for a bar without "Irish" or "American" in the title, then went back to Flo's.

The next day Anna B., an unpredictable (and, frankly, occasionally sulky) goth I knew from three years ago, joined up with our group. Possibly for the sole reason of making us look as mismatched as possible.

In review: Flo looks like a east-european armsdealer, Domi looks like a spiky hardcore goth, and I (apparently) look like some sort of skater in my hoodie and Negri-brand knit cap.

Anna B. (it's always Anna B.) looks (and acts) like the punky American goths I vaguely know from home. That being said, she's actually quite nice/intelligent when she wants to be.

Our mismatched group went to the Leipzig "Zoo", where I was as close to a lion as I ever hope to be. Also, there were monkeys and fish and sea lions. I hadn't been to a zoo in a while, and it was actually pretty enjoyable. Afterwards, we took leave of Anna B. and bought the necessary ingredients for Flo's amazing Thai food.

As always, we had to kill time. Clubs here are dead before eleven, or so the legend goes. We ate, talked, and (after realizing we still had three hours left) went to Kill Bill. Fantastic film. Then we went to Dark Flower.

Goth clubs…

Since my hoodie has somehow become my fall jacket, I looked exactly the same as I did the night before. Which means: I was, by goth standards, underdressed. Gray is almost black, but it just doesn't cut it in this particular subculture.

Dark Flower was smoky, everything was painted black, and fake spiderwebs covered every wall. Even better, the tables were shaped like coffins. I'm told that the club was empty that night, but it was pretty crowded as far as I'm concerned. The D.J. was pretty good, although I'm not the best judge of such things.

The Villa, the next club, was very empty. Domi and I fell asleep at intervals while a half dozen goths, including Flo, danced nearby. Goth dancing apparently involves a lot of grinding on invisible people no one else can see.

We got back at five, and in twelve hours (spent at Flo's, sleeping or chit-chatting idly) I caught the train back to Freiburg. It was a weird leave-taking, as if it won't probably be another three years before we see each other again. Well, here's hoping.